


sweet dreams are made of this

by peraltiagoisland



Category: It's Always Sunny in Philadelphia
Genre: M/M, all u gotta know is that after the super bowl dennis has sex dreams every nigh, and he goes back to philly in hopes of making the dreams stop, doesn't really change the events of the season, follows s13, in fact it changes none of the events, thats why i wrote this fic lmaooooo, the summarys so fucking pretentious
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-10-27
Updated: 2018-12-13
Packaged: 2019-08-08 13:33:26
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 8
Words: 55,529
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16430363
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/peraltiagoisland/pseuds/peraltiagoisland
Summary: One faithful night in North Dakota, blissfully subdued by the Eagles' victory in the Super Bowl, Dennis Reynolds finds himself waking up from a highly intense sex dream with Mac, who he saw on TV during the game but hasn't actually spoken to in a year. It's nothing, it means nothing, of course, but when the dreams keep happening every night and refuse to stop, Dennis decides that enough is enough. Follow his journey back to Philadelphia as he attempts to put these dreams to rest, finding more than he's looking for.





	1. travel the world, and the seven seas

_Bronzed skin, taut muscle, and beautiful lips._  

Dennis feels it all, against him, pressing him down, kissing the perfect angle of his collarbone. His hands are held above his head in an insistent grasp, he can’t move, not even a bit, and he wouldn’t have it any other way. Mac grinds his hips in a downward swoop, pressing against his arousal in a way that has him gasping. He pleads, begs, demands for more, and can only shiver in want as Mac slowly, torturously, strokes his cock.

“Like that?” And of course he does. Mac lets go of Dennis’ hands to sit up and start unbuttoning his shirt, and Dennis goes dry at the mouth when he shrugs the offending thing off his shoulders. His gorgeous shoulders, and Dennis wants to run his hands over it all. He starts by trailing his fingers up Mac’s torso, dragging them over those abs, those perfectly carved muscles, beauty that he holds in his hands, beauty that straddles his hips, and Dennis knows it’s all for him.

Because Mac whispers as such, tells Dennis how amazing and stunning and transcendent he is (except he does not use words like _transcendent_ , but his simpler language that rolls out in groans and grunts tells him so), tells Dennis how he only wants _him_ , how he made his body look absolutely irresistible for Dennis, for Dennis to touch, for Dennis to hold, and for Dennis to get fucked by.

Mac fucks him good as can be, goes deep and hard and fast and Dennis can feel it all—every inch, every sensation—it hurts and it heals and there’s nothing better, no sensation (or sensations, because every thrust brings a new jolt of pleasure) better than this. Mac angles his hips beautifully, his face contorted in pleasure, his teeth biting down every time Dennis tightens his ass around Mac’s cock, breaking him down, generating all the power behind Mac’s thrusts.

Mac’s stamina is incredible, and Dennis finds himself biting his arm to stave off his orgasm, but he takes credit for it all, obviously. Mac slows and speeds up at his command, although they eventually reach a point where they’re too far gone to form words, babbling and mumbling incoherent phrases at best, drowning the room with moans, curses, and other indiscernible sounds.

Eventually, Mac’s just pining him down, holding him still as he fucks him senseless, and Dennis loses himself as he comes with a shout, a long, almost unending shout that he can’t even begin to suppress, he further loses his mind when Mac climaxes, hot come spilling inside him, making his orgasm all that more outrageous. He’s never felt this good, not with a girl, not with himself, never.

Then it’s over, but not really, because Mac drops down next to him with that ever so present smile, but this smile in particular is reserved only for Dennis. He pulls him close, arm resting on Dennis’ waist as he lands a smooch on the nape of his neck.

“Man... that was great. You were so good, dude,” he says, lavishing Dennis with praise, before fingers go carding through his hair. Somehow, Dennis doesn’t care that Mac’s messing his perfectly arranged curls up, even hums at the contact, his back resting against Mac’s chest. Everything around them stills, and he can’t think of any place he’d rather be.

Mac wraps his strong, ridiculously strong arms around Dennis, and his scent wafts into his nostrils. Dennis finds that he’s soothed by the smells, the air, the way they linger in the atmosphere, the way their sex seems to have spread throughout their little bubble, the hazy world they’ve created for themselves.

And then he’s turning around to face Mac, missing his face all of a sudden, generously plastering his face with kisses. Pecks on the cheek and slow, insistent lips against his jaw. God, _if he existed,_ really was doing Dennis a favor when he sculpted Mac. Just like how God (who is, again, a fake bitch, that Dennis is just using to make a point) did the world a favor when he created Dennis. But Mac, with his innocent doe eyes, his trusting stare, and his unending devotion, is all for Dennis. He nuzzles deeper into the crook of Mac’s neck, breathing in deep, and that’s when he says it.

_“I love you.”_

 

* * *

 

Dennis wakes up with a jolt, his breaths coming in hard and fast (faster than the way Subconscious Mac fucked him, which is impressive, but also terrifying for his lungs), his dick half-hard, which is a shame, but at least he didn’t come in his pants this time.

Yes. _This time_. Because this isn’t the first time this has happened, this isn’t Dennis’ first rodeo (by rodeo, he means _filthy filthy sex dream with Mac_ , but both are equally horrible to picture), not by a long shot, and unlike what Dennis told himself when he went to sleep the night before, it probably won’t be his last rodeo.

Dennis scrambles out of bed, relieved to be alone, glad that Mandy gets up early for work, at her job, which she does. He’s hopping mad at himself, his head a muddled mess as his conscious mind gets flooded with the painfully vivid events of his dream. This is the umpteenth night in a row now, that Dennis has fallen victim to whatever gay sex-related curse he’s under, and you’d think he’d be desensitized to everything he’s pictured by now, but nope, he’s still just as jittery, just as uncomfortable with how hard he is.

But seriously, “I love you”? Him? Saying those words to Mac? And meaning it in the most intimate and sincere way possible? That’s messed up.

Yeah, yeah, sure, he’s gotten plowed by Mac for several nights now (again, in his subconscious, don’t go getting any ideas), jerked off, tied up, at one point his spirit was stuck in Mac’s dildo bike as he rode it for three hours, but love?? Love confessions? That was new, and that raised the levels of how weird this all is to new unsettling heights.

He roughly assails his teeth for a good two minutes, toothbrush harshly scraping away right before he yanks it out, energy bursting from his every movement. He spits out toothpaste, mostly foam at this point, and washes his mouth clean, like that’ll somehow take back words he’s never said.

But seeing is believing, and Dennis is starting to believe that the crazy shit he’s been forced to watch, forced to imagine in the dead of the night is driving him insane. Maybe he _is_ insane, maybe that’s why he can’t dream about anything else. And really, the bar’s been lowered right past rock bottom at this point, he just wants to stop dreaming about Mac, and having sex with Mac, and kissing Mac, and apparently, given recent dreamvents (obviously meaning _dream events,_ stuff that happened but also didn’t really happen, it’s a stupid and completely inane amalgamation of words, but Dennis is losing his marbles, so who gives a shit, right?), confessing his love to Mac.

Honestly, at the very least, Dennis just wants to stop waking up at half-mast, like his dick is trying to commemorate Memorial Day, or the death of a Senator. Either way, it’s embarrassing, and it’s almost worse than having woken up to his load already blown, because at least he won’t have to take care of the stupid problem in the shower (having his penis stay hard would just make it all the more humiliating, a reminder of the shit show that is his brain). He thinks of women, of course, big breasted women who he fucks, who he _definitely_ doesn’t get fucked _by_ , and it takes a little longer for him to orgasm than he’d like to admit, but at least he’s thinking about women, and if the image of Mac pining him down pops into his head at some point while he drives himself over the edge, Dennis chalks it up to a mere remnant of his terrible, terrible dreams.

Or nightmares, he should be calling them nightmares, because the shit his brain’s been waxing has been haunting Dennis’ days, filling up his thoughts, and ruining everything. And Dennis... Dennis has had enough.

Picking up the phone, he drops a message for his boss, quitting his job effective immediately, he pens a hasty apology to Mandy on paper (that he laminates, so that gives him points for sincerity), sticks it on the fridge, and packs a suitcase.

He leaves.

 

* * *

 

It all started because of that stupid Super Bowl final.

Okay, the Super Bowl isn’t stupid, and that final was far, far from stupid, the Eagles won and that was amazing (Go Birds!), Dennis is just really frustrated so he’s generalizing the whole affair as a disastrous day.

And honestly, the day wasn’t so bad (like he said, the Eagles took home the win), it was the _night_ that left Dennis in shudders, because that night marked the first time Dennis had an honest-to-goodness sex dream about Mac.

...in a long time. Yeah, yeah, shut the fuck up. He lived with Mac for twenty years, there was bound to be a stupid sex dream that popped up once in a while, it’s normal, and it has nothing to do with whether Dennis is sexually attracted to Mac or not (note: he’s Not).

The thing about the post-Super Bowl final sex dream is, it was super explicit (as all his subsequent dreams have been), and it was explicit like nothing Dennis had ever dreamed up before. He’s almost impressed by his brain for coming up with such raunchy, vivid stuff, except it should’ve been raunchy, vivid stuff about a hot _girl_. A female _woman_ , not Mac, his gay best friend who he walked out on to raise a family with a woman. Who is, again, _female_. Because Dennis is straight, and unlike Mac, it’s not just something he’s saying to hide what he truly feels, Dennis is a proud, heterosexual man. Who has sex with women. And if he liked men, he would be cool with it, because there’s nothing wrong with being gay, and he’s in support of Mac being gay. And of people being gay in general. But he’s not gay, so none of that matters. And the fact that he’s not gay is why he’s so bothered by these dreams!

Okay so, yes, back to the Super Bowl final. While Dennis isn’t sure whether the game triggered his nightmares or not, he can’t leave out the fact that he saw the gang on TV when he was tuning in. More specifically, he saw Mac, more jacked than Dennis had ever seen him be in his life.

It was a shock, sure, but Dennis didn’t care. It didn’t arouse or attract him in any way, and the reason he’s even mentioning it at all right now is because his dreams, all his new dreams, have depicted Mac in his new, very much ripped, self.

And what was Mac doing on TV during the Super Bowl, you ask? Well, if you must know, Mac was on the KissCam. Passionately (a bit too passionately, if you asked Dennis, but then again, he doesn’t care) making out with Rex on screen. Which Dennis was forced to witness with his own two eyes.

Of course, Dennis wasn’t jealous. He didn’t feel at all jealous seeing Mac kiss another man on television, for millions of people across the country to see. Why would he be? In fact, he was happy for Mac. See? Yes, he was happy, because Mac... Mac deserved to catch a break! He’s not an idiot, he knew Mac had a thing for him, he knew of Mac’s feelings and he knew that Mac was... probably in love with him, for lack of a better term. Obsession, perhaps. And to see Mac move on? It’s great! It was great, it was, it was _fantastic_ is what it is.

But... did it have to be Rex? Again, Dennis is happy, proud, not jealous, whatever, but—did it _have_ to be Rex? It’s not that Dennis hates Rex or anything, he’s fine, he’s fine with the guy, it’s cool, but Mac could do better than that. If Mac’s to move on from a god, a _golden_ god, such as himself, he’d better get some better action.

So yeah, that’s why Dennis’ fist clenched when he saw the two of them kiss, not that it’s any of your business. The matter at hand is how all this played into Dennis’ consecutive sex-fueled extravaganza that has invaded his subconscious. Which, again, he _swears_ was not triggered by seeing Mac kiss Rex, however stupid that was, and however a waste of time that was.

He acknowledges that seeing Mac might have triggered something, but once again, it wasn’t a sexual trigger. Dennis believes that he’s been cursed. By who, by what, he doesn’t know, but it’s a sickness of some kind, yes, a disease, and he’s been infected, so now Dennis needs to cleanse himself, or rid himself of whatever toxins are in his system, change his surroundings to hopefully get his brain to stop. Distort the equilibrium of his past year so that he can break this dream cycle.

And that’s how Dennis finds himself walking back into Paddy’s Pub, the distinctive and familiar voices talking over one other.

Because as far as he’s concerned, Dennis did not have nightly dreams about getting butt-fucked by Mac when he was living in Philadelphia.

 

* * *

 

He’s greeted by a series of bullets. Frank, of course, him and that stupid gun. Someone’s going to get killed one day because his idiot not-father father can’t keep it the fuck together. Dennis successfully gets the gang to ditch what he can only assume is a sorry excuse for a replacement, a replacement for Dennis, which is an oxymoron, because one does not simply replace Dennis Reynolds. In fact, one does not _replace_ Dennis Reynolds, let’s leave it at that.

It’s odd being back, a good kind of odd, and it nearly makes him regret leaving at all in the first place. Of course, he might go back, as he explained in his laminated letter to Mandy (and to the gang), if he cures himself, but also... he wants to stick around a bit. Call him sentimental, but he’s missed getting up to stupid shit and having to face little to no consequences for his actions. He feels like a burden’s been lifted off his shoulders, having to help raise an entire child, having to make a living that wasn’t out of convenience but necessity... it was a lot of pressure, and it had been taking a toll on him.

Maybe that’s why he started having those crazy dreams. Maybe his time in North Dakota was draining him, making him into a man he doesn’t know, poisoning him, and what happens when you get poisoned? You fall sick, and that’s probably what happened here. He traded one burden for another burden, and while the stresses of being a father left him the second he set foot out of North Dakota, he isn’t sure how long his other, relatively new burden will take to leave him once he’s back in Philly, back to seeing Mac on a daily, minutely basis again.

Speaking of Mac, seeing him, this new, ultra beefcaked version of him in person, is... unsettling. And no, for the last time, he isn’t turned on by Mac’s new look and body, of course not. He’s just not used to it yet, but he’s definitely proud of the guy. Mac used to only (barely) work out his glamor muscles, but now, he’s practically an ox. He could take on a, a buffalo, and he might win. He more than looks the part of Paddy’s Head Of Security now, not that that was ever a real title.

Dennis cracks open a cold one with the boys (and Dee), very quickly inserting himself back into the gang. He does it efficiently, quickly, methodically, calling Dee a bird before asking Mac if he’s gained weight. He gulps down his beer as he watches Mac examine his body (there’s no need to, Mac probably doesn’t even have body fat anymore), instantly insecure from Dennis’ words. Interesting. It’s more than possible that Rex didn’t actually help Mac get over him, but he predicted that, Rex just isn’t a quality enough lay. Sure, he’s fine, he’d be fine, fitting, but... he’s no Dennis.

Dennis’ eyes follow Mac as he gets over himself and looks at Dennis again, a twinkle in his stare, like he can’t believe that Dennis is back. He’s clearly ecstatic about it all, and Dennis swirls his tongue around the mouth of his beer, if only to watch as Mac gulps at the sight, shifting in his seat and looking down. Yes, Dennis may have used harsh words to distance himself from Mac (can’t be too nice to him, just in case that facilitates the dreams), but watching Mac fall apart at the slightest move Dennis makes is too fun to pass up, fills him with an almost exhilarating joy. It’s fun, is what it is, and of course Dennis doesn’t return Mac’s feelings, can’t return Mac’s feelings, but that doesn’t mean he shouldn’t have this nice ego boost.

Maybe that’s what led to the sex dreams. It’s not _Mac_ that turned Dennis onto making sweet, imaginary love to him every night, it’s the _self esteem boost_ he gets that spurred him on, inspired all of this nonsense. If anything, his pride at having Mac in the palm of his hand is probably what’s been arousing him so much.

In a way that’s not _gay_ , just to confirm. Enjoying the attention of another man is not gay, in fact, he receives this very attention from women, numerous women from his very fulfilling sex life, and as far as he’s concerned, he’s definitely gotten off to the attention, not just the women themselves. Honestly, most of the time it was just the attention. The women only affected how much that attention was worth it, was worth being proud of. Being wanted is sexy, being lusted after is sexy, and that’s just how Dennis gets off.

So maybe all Dennis has to do to get the dreams to stop is to help Mac fall out of love with him, get rid of Mac’s very apparent attraction to him (he saw Mac give him a once-over, and while he looked at Mac’s body too that was out of unfamiliarity more than anything).

Of course, that’s a tall order, and succeeding will be tedious and very tough. But being his best friend, Dennis is more than willing to help Mac get out of this jam (especially since it will simultaneously help him out of his own jam).

 

* * *

 

They walk all the way home.

It takes way longer than it would’ve if they had driven, but it’s fine, great, even. Dennis doesn’t realize how much he’s missed the sound of Mac’s voice, the things he says (no matter how dumb they can get), the way his face lights up, stays animated.

Also, he feels like it’s too soon to ask about his car. Dennis is sure the gang has it stowed somewhere, safe in a garage, should he ever return (because of course they’d keep their hopes up about him returning), but he isn’t sure how fragile everyone is right now. Clearly, they’re all elated to have him back, but Dennis supposes it’s best to play it safe. He doesn’t want them to think that he cares about his car more than them (even though that’s true), and do something drastic, like, blow his car up with a rocket launcher. Ha! That would be ridiculous. But knowing the gang, worse things of incredibly inconceivable natures have happened before.

And call him nostalgic, but Dennis oddly likes the walk home. Apparently talking to Mac, sharing that dynamic back-and-forth they’ve always had, the top tier banter they’re capable of... it’s not the only thing he’s missed. He’s missed the night sky of Philly, the way things are quiet but if you listen carefully you can hear the tortured sounds of someone screaming in the distance, the way the trees sway in gentle wind. Dennis misses it all.

He feels safe too, safe because there’s no one else around them, safe because Mac most definitely worked out his core, worked his glamor muscles out till they became two rock hard forces to be reckoned with... and dare he say, even more glamorous muscles.

And if bad guys aren’t intimidated by that alone, there’s also the life-size sex doll based on Dennis’ likeness (he hates how it’s wearing the same outfit as him right now. like the exact same outfit. It’s uncanny how well Mac knows his style) that Mac has thrown over his shoulder.

“How have you been carrying that all the way home?” Dennis asks as Mac uses his free hand to unlock the door, stepping into their apartment like the damn thing weighs a fucking feather.

“Oh, this?” he sets it carefully on their dining table, and Dennis does all he can to look away from it. “This is nothing, bro, the company makes their dolls like, real lightweight and shit, it’s awesome. Here, you try holding it.”

Dennis is a tad bit hesitant, because he doesn’t want to go anywhere near something Mac has most definitely fucked over and over again, and also there’s something a little gay about holding a male sex doll. But then again... since it’s a sex doll of him, how gay can that be, right?

He picks it up. “Woah! This really is light,” Dennis puts it back down a little more harshly than he needs to, but it’s mostly an accident, and also it _is_ an accident, because the doll crashes down on top of his hand, which hurts. “Okay, so it’s not that light, but it’s not as heavy as I thought a... sex doll would be.”

Mac looks concerned as Dennis wrings out his hand to counteract the sting. “Ooh, my bad dude. You okay?”

“Yeah, it—it’s fine, dude, don’t worry about it.”

“I guess loads of heavy stuff feel lighter to me these days, but that’s because I’ve been working out a _ton_ ,” he’s excited now, Dennis can tell, he’s in brag mode. “Check this out!”

And Dennis does check it out, it being Mac’s newly worked out, stronger than him body, because Mac whips off his shirt and does a sort of pose in the middle of the room, like it’s just a totally chill thing to do. Dennis wants to call him out on how tacky his pose is, because the way he’s positioned his arms clearly flexes his bis and tris, showing them off more than necessary. He doesn’t need to put in extra effort to show them off, because they’re clear as day for all to see!

But Dennis can’t call him out, because his mouth has gone dry. Maybe he should’ve drank more beer at the bar. He’s still a little bit thirsty, and yes, that’s due in part to the very ripped Mac that stands before him right now. He... clearly has muscles. And they, they sure are muscular.

Just to be clear, Dennis isn’t speechless because he finds Mac sexy right now. Okay yes, sure, of course— _objectively_ —Mac is sexy right now. He’s at his peak, and Dennis is glad for him. He’s proud of him, is what it is. In fact, he might even be a little bit jealous. No, no—he’s not jealous. No, Dennis just... sees this as a reminder that he should hit the gym soon. Yes, he needs to start working out a little more to achieve his own best self. That lean, muscular body he’s cultivated, that 11% body fat. Not that he’s not still lean and muscular, of course, Dennis is just saying that he should take a page out of Mac’s book. Maybe he can go down a percentage body fat wise. Perfection is constantly evolving, after all, and Dennis is constantly chasing it.

“So what do you think, dude?”

Oh right, yeah. Mac expects a reaction to all this. It’s why he kept popping his pecs. That was so distracting, no wonder Dennis hasn’t said anything yet.

“Uh... yeah! Good work, bro,” he clears his throat.

“See! I told you I didn’t get fat again, man, this whole thing’s pure muscle. I gained muscle weight! It’s not fat.”

It definitely isn’t fat, and if Mac’s self esteem were any higher, and if he were any more well adjusted, he’d easily be able to make Dennis feel stupid for asking if he’d gained a little weight in the first place. But he doesn’t, and he’s not, so Dennis wins. It’s probably why he likes Mac so much.

_As a friend_. He cannot stress this enough. It’s all platonic on his end, no matter how Mac might feel towards him.

“Yeah, yeah, absolutely dude. I, I think I’m gonna get in the shower. It’s been a, been a long flight, so...”

 

* * *

 

“Mac, if you’re gonna be shooting your loads into this, you really gotta start thinking about proper cleaning methods. I mean–“

Mac’s eyes widen comically in fear as Dennis says this, freezing in his footsteps as he watches Dennis inspect and prod at the sex doll, which, for the record, Dennis still doesn’t like and wishes to get rid of as soon as possible, but a part of him is a little bit fascinated by it.

“Oh, dude, come on–“ he throws his face towel, _which he’d been dragging over his torso to get dry,_ over his shoulder, and stands before Dennis in his boxers, shirtless, again. It’s starting to get annoying at this point, having to constantly see Mac’s flawless abs. It’s disgusting, really, because Mac’s clearly finding ways to shoehorn his shirtlessness into situations that have no need for them. He’ll have a talk with Mac about that in a few days, once that starts to get truly excessive. “The gang, those guys, they were just being jerks. I wasn’t, I wasn’t blowing my loads into that.”

He’s most definitely lying, yeah, and Dennis is almost offended by it. Because how dare Mac, how dare he attempt to lie to him, and think that he can somehow get away with it? He should know by now that Dennis can always spot him when he’s caught in a spiel of shameful fibbing.

Dennis gets off from the bed, almost for dramatic effect, but really because he knows Mac finds it harder to lie to him when he gets all up close to him like this, he relishes in the way Mac seems all flustered, and knowing that he, and his intimidating footsteps, are the reason for this. “You’re lying. Tell me, tell me the truth. You jacked off into that doll, didn’t you?” 

Mac swallows, and Dennis’ gaze trails down to watch his Adam’s apple bob in his throat. Yes. He’s nervous. Good. “I... yeah. But, but that’s not why I got it, it’s just, it got convenient, it felt good, and honestly like, it don’t even look–“

“It looks almost _exactly_ like me and you know it. You wanted that doll because you needed to have me, and you _fucked_ that doll because it was like getting to fuck _me_.” He leans closer into Mac’s face, his voice a carefully used, intimidating whisper. “Admit it.”

He shuts his eyes once, and Dennis keeps his own peeled to watch his slow and careful blink. He’s filled to the brim with fear, that man, and Dennis all fired up from watching, feeding off his anxious energy.

“Yeah. I... you’re right. I... I’m sorry.”

Dennis backs off now, chuckling. “Well, don’t be. See? Wasn’t that so easy? Telling the truth?”

Mac nods slowly, unsure of what to make of this situation. “Yeah.”

“Okay, so now that we’re done with that—oh yeah. You know what dude? Don’t even bother cleaning the–“

“Oh, actually, now that I uh, we uh, now that we’re both on the same... page? Yeah, page, dude—I clean that thing thoroughly. Like, mad thorough. Bleached it and everything. And honestly, now that Charlie and Frank have also fucked it, don’t think I want it anymore. I’ll throw it out to–“

“No.”

“No?”

“As much as I—and let me be clear—I absolutely _hate_ this doll, we might have use for it one day, even though it’s super gross. Did you say Charlie and Frank banged it too?” Mac nods. “So yeah, either way, I don’t think we should throw it out.”

“Oh, thank god dude, because I so _did not_ wanna do that.”

“We should just dump it in storage–“

_“We should put it in storage!”_ Mac raises his hand happily in agreement with what Dennis suggests, in the way that lets Dennis know he had the exact same thought and was probably going to execute it in secret anyway even if Dennis hadn’t agreed with him.

They dump the sex doll in the empty room, the smaller room, which Dennis hopes he won’t be forced to live in after they get a new bed, hopes that Mac will let him have the big room again without protest, even though he’s been gone a year. And by they, Dennis means that Mac carried the sex doll all the way to the unoccupied bedroom, and he followed while they continued talking, because... it just felt weird not to.

But then Mac’s going through the closet for their spare blankets and pillows which Dennis doesn’t get, especially since he already set the bed with enough pillows already and a blanket more than large enough for the both of them, which he’s sure Mac must’ve noticed. He gets even more confused when Mac starts walking out the bedroom.

“Dude, dude dude dude—where are you going?”

Mac turns around, confused. “I’m going to sleep, man. Why, what’s up?”

“Sleep? Mac, this is _your_ bedroom.”

“Oh–“ Mac looks astonished–“you, want to sleep on the couch?”

“What, no, are you insane? I’m sleeping in here.”

“Oh. So you want me to sleep on the _floor_ –“

“No! Why would I–“

“So _you_ want to sleep on the floor?”

“No one’s sleeping on the floor, Mac!”

Mac’s eyes sparkle with realization. Thank god. “Oh! You want me to move the couch in here?”

Dennis smacks his own forehead. Why does he ever try with Mac? The guy’s a complete numbskull. “Goddamn it Mac, no!”

“Okay, so I don’t understand what’s going on–“

“WE’RE SHARING THE BED!”

“Oh.” Mac pauses, uncertain. “Why... why would you want that?”

Well, multiple reasons. First off, Dennis is trying to be nice to Mac. This is apparently, a huge mistake in retrospect, but like how he didn’t ask Mac about his car in order to ensure Mac doesn’t get mad and trash his car, he’s being nice and sharing the bed with Mac in order to ensure Mac doesn’t get mad and trash his car. One might argue that it would perhaps be even _nicer_ if Dennis let Mac take the bed and slept on the couch. He did, after all, show up with absolutely no warning after a year of absence with no contact. But Dennis disagrees. First off all, there’s no way he’s sleeping on the couch. It’s bad for his back, it sucks, it’ll make his neck all wrong—you name it, Dennis has a problem with it. Secondly, Mac would definitely prefer to share the bed with Dennis than sleep in it alone. Who doesn’t like having a nice warm body next to them in bed? Especially one as attractive as Dennis? He’s doing Mac a goddamn favor, is what it is.

And the other reason? What’s that saying again, uh... Absence makes the heart grow fonder? Yeah, Dennis is trying out the exact opposite of that, perhaps, being in Mac’s presence will make his twisted subconscious grow un-fonder, so maybe he can get through a REM cycle without humping Mac like a ruthless animal.

“Just—just get in the bed, man.”

He does. They fall asleep ass to ass, trying to pull off Charlie and Frank’s platonic sleeping in the same bed thing.

 

* * *

 

Hot water hits Dennis’ naked body and he groans, his skin almost melting at the contact, having felt so cold for so long before. Steam rises and coats the glass walls of the shower, blurring everything, and Dennis feels good. Thank god. It seems the sex dreams have stopped. It’s what Dennis came here for, after all, and of course he succeeded. Dennis Reynolds could never fail at such a well put together, concise, plan.

No more sex dreams! That’s so great. Because of course Dennis doesn’t want to have sex with Mac! Whatever it was that he had going on in North Dakota—he’s not surprised it happened—since that place is messed up seven ways to Sunday, whatever bug, whatever parasite, whatever curse got to him, Dennis is willing to believe those could have caused his problem just this once, especially since it’s all gone now.

Being in the shower is so nice. So relaxing. It’s been a long time since he’s been in the shower, with no pressure to get out quick because he has to go to work, or that he can’t leave Brian Jr. alone for too long... it’s comforting. Comforting to have no responsibilities, or no _immediate_ responsibilities, at least.

He washes his face, with his preferred cleanser, not the shitty subpar brand sold in North Dakota (how is it that even facial cleansers can differ between two states? Why did he ever think leaving Philly was a good idea?), and runs his fingers over his cheeks. They feel supple, tight yet somewhat smooth at the same time, and Dennis reaches for his shampoo. Because of course Mac kept all his body, face, and hair products. It’s not like he has products of his own and needs space to put them—Mac’s idea of hygiene and maintenance, skin care, etc—is a single bar of soap. And also he brushes his teeth. To his credit though, Mac always smells good after a shower, despite not having top notch products, and his skin always looks baby smooth. It’s annoying for someone who cares so little, but it makes Mac all the more easy on the eyes, all the more easy to live with, since Dennis has to see him every day.

It’s important that Dennis live with someone who’s not too ugly. Yes, the rest of the gang is _horrendously_ ugly, Dee, Charlie—and don’t even get him started on _Frank_. Mac’s the least ugly of them all, which makes him the best looking, and therefore, the most viable candidate for a roommate. It’s one thing to see someone almost everyday, but to have to see someone first thing in the morning? That’s why Mac is perfect for him.

Roommate-wise. Perfect as in the best choice out of everyone else in the gang. Yeah.

Dennis is carefully applying conditioner to his hair now, making sure it gets that soft look he’s always aiming for, and succeeding in getting. He has half a mind to put his slick hands to even better use by wrapping them around his cock. He has felt a little numb between the legs during this shower, bouts of pleasure every now and then. His dick feels phenomenal, is what Dennis is saying, and he doesn’t know how the hell he’s gotten his penis to feel this spontaneously good without being touched (he swears, there’s some suction going on down there, somehow. Dennis truly is the ultimate male specimen), but he knows his touch would make it all feel so, so much better.

His hand reaches down but doesn’t feel any cock. What the hell? Is that a head? Hair? Oh god.

Dennis finally looks down, and nearly falls over when he sees Mac’s head bobbing up and down, sucking him off with an enthused fury. It still feels incredible, but now Dennis is filled with fear, dread. No, this can’t be! This can’t be!

_This is still sex with Mac, and Dennis is still dreaming._

 

* * *

 

When he wakes up this time, Dennis can’t even sit up in a panicked state, because an arm, Mac’s arm, is draped across his chest and effectively pining him down. So much for sleeping ass to ass. What’s even worse is how Dennis’ own fingers seem to have shimmied their way into Mac’s hair somehow, during the long, warm night.

So now... not only has Dennis failed to solve his stupid Mac sex dreams, he’s shared a bed with Mac and they are now _cuddling_. He has a whole new problem, thanks a lot, life.

And also, he’s got that boner again. Both of them.


	2. everybody's looking for something

Toss. Turn. Toss. Turn. Dennis’ new bed is uncomfortable as fuck hell, and it’s all Mac’s fault.

 

* * *

 

“Bed store, baby!” 

_The Boys Are Back In Town_ blasts over one of their phones. The gang’s all back together! And today, they’re taking over this bed store. Knowing the gang though, it’s all gonna go horribly wrong, they’ll annoy, worry, and devastate several staff members of—what’s this place called again? Mattress Firm? Okay, stupid name, so it’s not going to matter when they get kicked out sooner or later. But since Dennis needs a new bed, they’re gonna have to move fast and pick one before that happens.

“Oh man, I can’t wait—they’re like—they’re like _begging_ me to jump on them man–“ Dennis gently taps on Charlie’s shoulder to calm him down, the man looks like he’s seconds away from having a breakdown, like a kid at a mattress store who can’t decide which bed he wants to jump on first. Except Charlie Kelly is an adult man in his forties.

But Dennis doesn’t judge. And you better not judge him either, you stupid bitch.

“Charlie, you think we should get a new couch bed? Our old one reeks of Waitress. Don’t know what she did but that broad made our bed feel all gross.” Frank chimes in, and Dennis has to hold back his groans because this day is supposed to be about _him_ , they’re here to choose a bed for him, and this entire operation’s going to be compromised if Frank and Charlie are focused on their own bullshit needs. But since Frank offered to pay for Dennis’ new crap, he’s forced to reign it in and shut up.

“Wha-why man? The couch is fine, the bed’s fine, it’s great. We can’t throw that thing out, bud, you know how many awesome nights we spent in that bed? Nightcrawlers wouldn’t feel the same on some stupid, fancy...”

“Mattress?” Mac offers kindly, but also in a way that makes it seem like he finds himself smart for thinking of the word.

“Yeah, dude! Some stupid, fancy mattress! It’ll take forever to break in–“

Frank nods, acquiescing. “You’re right, Charlie. We wouldn’t be able to sleep for days!”

“Yeah, yeah, and look Frank, if it’s really bothering you I’ll just bleach it, then it’s clean! Clean and good as ne–“

“You think I should get a new mattress too? Frank, you did wear mine out when you stayed, you should–“

“Goddamn it, Dee! No! You’re not getting a mattress, you can get your own damn mattress on your own time, today’s about me, okay? And I need you to focus on finding me a good mattress—we can’t mess this up—you hear me? You hear me Dee?”

“Yes, yes, I hear you, you fucking asshole, I’ll help you find your stupid goddamn mattress!”

“Guys, Dennis has a delicate back. If he sleeps on the wrong bed, it’s going to mess everything up–“

“Yes,” Dennis heaves in relief. “Yes, thank you Mac, finally, _someone’s_ making sense–“

“–and he’ll get all cranky and whiny, and then _I’m_ gonna have to deal with it–“ he continues, gesturing to himself.

“What? Mac, you idiot, I do not get ‘cranky’ and I most _certainly_ do not whine!”

Mac snorts. “Yeah, sure you do.”

Charlie starts laughing. “He does! He really does!”

“He’s whining right now!” Dee adds, pouring fuel into fire, the burning flame that is Dennis Reynolds.

“Oh, shut up. Can we—can we please? Just once, let’s not get derailed, let’s not get distracted, can we just do this? Without screwing it up? Just buy this one bed, without screwing it up?!”

Dennis bites down on his lip to keep from shouting any more and the gang’s laughter dies down.

“Yeah, sure.”

“Yeah, dude, whatever, no one was doing anything, man.”

“You okay, dude?”

Dennis sighs harshly. “Know what—let’s just. Let’s just go in.”

And go in they do. They’ve all already received instructions beforehand, planned this, in whatever haphazard drunken way Dennis advised the night before. Everyone’s supposed to split up and test out beds, as respectfully as they can, so that they don’t get stopped by anyone for being disruptive to the other customers. But once again, knowing the gang, they’re not going to really listen and they’re going to mostly try and have fun, so Dennis is going to have to make sure he doesn’t leave any of them alone for too long so that they focus up.

So yes, rather than focusing on choosing his own bed, Dennis will be _overseeing_ the whole affair, and will only try out beds that have been recommended to him by the gang. As unreliable as they can all be, Dennis is hopeful that they’ll know the difference between a comfortable bed and a piece of shit.

Dennis walks down the spaces between all the lined up beds, slowly taking them in, using his eyes to judge the beds. Frame, arrangement, which bed looks comfiest. He winks at a long-haired redhead as he passes her by, and she looks taken aback and uncomfortable, which Dennis charts up to being intimidated by his good looks and confidence.

He sees Mac testing out a king-sized bed with plush pillows and the softest looking duvet. He grins, unable to hide his smile. Mac knows him, Mac knows what he’s after, knows he wants to sleep alone in a king-sized bed, knows the level of comfort that Dennis deserves.

“Hey, buddy,” Dennis crashes beside Mac on the bed, and Mac lights up, which is great, because that’s how everyone should react to Dennis appearing before their very eyes (that redhead bitch could take a note or two). “What’d you find here?”

“Oh, dude,” Mac pushes himself up on his elbows to face Dennis, and it really accentuates his arms—how did they get so tanned? He knows how they got so goddamn brawny, but how’d he achieve this? This perfectly bronzed look... he looks a little like—is it Brad Pitt? From Fight Club? Yeah! He looks like Brad Pitt from Fight Club! And it’s a look that really works for Mac, more than Dennis has ever seen in the years he’s known the guy. Which is saying something, because Mac was already doing just fine for himself before. “This bed? Super comfortable, right? Feels like a cloud.”

His head hits the pillow again and Dennis watches as his eyes flutter shut. “Yeah Mac, I think, I think you’re onto something here, with this bed. I’ll put it on the shortlist.”

Dennis leaves, albeit reluctantly (it’s because the bed was so comfortable, not because of Mac) because he has to keep searching and also, he needs to keep tabs on the others, make sure they don’t mess around, that sort of thing. Although, with every passing second, keeping tabs on the others feels like less and less of a priority. Maybe he should just focus up and try out more beds on his own. After all, his taste _is_ the most impeccable.

But then he sees Dee and oh—that goddamn bitch. She’s testing out a vibrating bed, looking like a common fool. What a common fool she is.

“Oh, hey Dennis.” She clicks some button on this remote she has in her hand, and the bed stops shaking. “Check this out, this bed feels amazing, it’s supposed to do wonders for your back.”

Dennis stands a foot away from the bed, looking wary, and with good reason. You see, Dee’s an idiot. And he can’t trust her opinion. “Dee, this bed was shaking. Why are you on a shaking bed? I don’t _want_ a shaking bed, how am I supposed to _fall asleep_ on a–“

“Just get on the goddamn bed, you asshole.”

Sighing, Dennis gets on the bed next to Dee, because even he can admit he’s a little curious, as to why this bed was made the way it is, and why it’s any good. Then Dee presses that button and his world turns upside down. Because goddamn it, that is a _bed_.

“Woah!” It really is doing wonders for his back.

Dee giggles. “Good, right? I’m thinking of getting Frank to buy me this bad boy.”

Dennis rolls his eyes. He’s not even going to bother arguing with Dee over this anymore. She has her heart set on the bed. “Well, good luck with that. I have to say, Deandra, this bed... this bed is amazing. Don’t think I’ve ever felt better in my life.”

“See? Told you so.” Dee didn’t tell him jackshit, but she’s found something else with this bed. It’s oddly stimulating too, which Dennis is finding weird now since his sister is next to him, so he pops off the mattress.

“Sure. I’m gonna go see what the others have found.”

“Catch ya later, sucker.”

She’s lost to the world by now, so Dennis doesn’t bother to dignify her words with a response. He sets out to find Frank and Charlie, because those two can’t be left alone. They’re too unreliable, too _Wild Card_ for his taste, and he needs to constantly reign them in if they’re going to help him accomplish his agenda.

When he finds them, they’re engaged in some kind of discussion. Which is a bad sign for multiple reasons. First of all, they’re not even supposed to be together. The point of the _Split Up And Search_ strategy was that everyone _split up,_ so the fact that Charlie and Frank are together right now means that half their work is compromised. Secondly, they’re not supposed to be standing up, or, or talking. This is a bed store! They’re supposed to test out beds! By lying in them, or at the very least sat down on them.

“Hey, what’s going on here?”

His tone does nothing to scare either Frank or Charlie. They look at him with no fear in their eyes, no pain, no guilt, only... acknowledgement. Which is frustrating.

“Hey, dude. Guess what: Frank and I are gonna renew our bed.”

“What?! I thought you’ve already had this discussion. A discussion, that, need I remind you, ended before we set foot in the store!”

“Oh, no, man! This is a whole new idea. We’re gonna buy a new bed, but not _for_ the bed, for the _filling_.”

“The filling?!”

“We’re gonna stuff our old bed with the uh, the cotton, or goose feathers from the new bed. Or whatever’s goin’ on in there, make the bed more sturdy for our backs,” Frank explains, which does not help matters.

“None of this makes any _sense_ ,” exasperates Dennis, just this close to losing it. “Either keep your bed as is, or buy a new one and sleep in it! What’s with, what’s with this stuffing plan? And can we please—we’re not here for your bed stuffing—we’re here to find a bed for me, so could you two just please do that? Please?”

Frank furrows his eyebrows. “Come on Dennis, cool it a little. We can each do our own thing.”

“Yeah, Dennis, it’s gonna be fine. You find your bed, we find our goose stuffing. We have plenty of time.”

Dennis clenches his fist. He’s had, he’s had more than enough, actually. “Oh god. Oh my god—you know what? Fine. Fine! You two, go, go find your goose, feathers, or whatever the hell it is you want, and I’ll go look for my bed all by my damn self!”

“Aw, come on, Dennis, you won’t be looking by yourself,” Charlie corrects. “I think Mac’s still helping you out.”

Of course. Because of course Mac is the only one in this group who isn’t constantly thinking of helping himself, and is willing to spare a goddamn second to help a buddy out. He really needs to treat the guy out to dinner more often.

“Fine, yes, Charlie—I’ll go look for Mac—and you and Frank go get your stupid bed so you can murder it for its goose feathers! Heck, find an actual goose and skin it for all I care! Everybody go get a goose feather! Everybody go get a goddamn goose feather!”

And then he’s stomping off, which Frank and Charlie don’t care about, because the second he leaves they’re back at it again, talking about cotton or back support or whatever the hell it is they want to talk about.

Dennis’ eyes flit left and right in concentration, getting more and more worked up every time he sees a person that’s not Mac. It’s incredibly annoying, actually, hearing all their stupid laughs and whatever stupid words they’re trying to say. It’s all pointless anyway. Pointless and stupid and Dennis wants to hear none of it, wants to see none of it, just wants them all to disappear, because he’s looking for Mac.

And find Mac he does—except this turns out for the worst—seeing Mac actually makes Dennis even angrier. It gets him fuming—Mac is sat down on a vibrating bed—which isn’t the problem here (but seriously though, where are all these weird beds coming from?). The problem is the man Mac is with, the man who’s chatting with Mac and looks nothing like a salesperson, so they have no excuse, no goddamn reason to talk to Mac! And god, is Mac smiling? Is he actually smiling? And, and _laughing_ as he talks to this jackass?

Dennis takes back all the nice things he said or thought about Mac today. Fuck Mac, honestly. Fuck him to hell! Any second he spends talking to losers is a second he wastes, seconds he could use to try out beds, also known as _the reason why they’re here._

“Mac!”

He doesn’t follow that up with anything, fails to form a rational sentence as he stomps over to Mac and the douchewagon he’s verbally canoodling with. Mac beams at Dennis when he makes his presence known, like he didn’t just commit a heinous crime of... of betrayal.

“Hey Dennis! This is Luke, I was just talking to him about my workout routine.”

Goddamn it. God fucking damn it. If he’d known it would come to this, if he’d have to watch streams of men talk to Mac all day because of his stupid build, he’d give it all up. He’d trade this Mac back in for Mac looking his worst for all he cares.

“Yeah,” Luke, not that his name matters, agrees, his eyes dragging up and down Mac’s body, very clearly checking Mac out, which gets Dennis’ blood boiling. “Your friend’s got some great tips. Hey–“ he taps Mac on the shoulder, the fucking asshole–“we should work out together some time–“

“NO!” Dennis bellows, interrupting Lance, whatever his name is, and startling the shit out of him. Mac looks taken aback as well, but there’s a certain look in his eye that sets his reaction apart from Logan’s.

“Uh... what the hell dude?”

“What’s the matter, Dennis?”

Is Mac smiling right now? Goddamn it, he must think Dennis is being jealous and possessive over him right now, him and his stupid hopeful crush, but Dennis doesn’t have time to clear that up now. “We have to go. We’re leaving, Mac. _Now_.”

“Right now? You picked a bed already?”

Mac has his arms crossed, disbelieving, and it’s not helping—it’s not _fucking_ helping, he’s so annoying, jesus fucking christ! “Yes, Mac, I’ve picked a fucking bed, now can we go? We don’t have all day!”

“Really? ‘Cause... I thought we were spending all day at the store—which bed did you pick?”

“Th—I—this one! I pick this one, so–“ he tugs at Mac’s arm, getting him off the bed, away from Lonathan–“let’s go!”

“Wait–“ interrupts Lichael, the goddamn imbecile who can’t take a fucking hint–“can I at least get your number? So we can work out together some time?”

“Sorry dude!” Mac yells as he gets dragged away by Dennis. “I’m really busy today!”

 

* * *

 

So yes, that’s how Dennis recklessly put in an order for a bed that he didn’t even get to try out himself, and it’s all definitely Mac’s fault. Yes, Dennis does enjoy the vibrating function supplied by the bed, but as he’s previously (and accurately) predicted, it’s impossible to get to sleep when the vibrating function is on. And when the function is off? It is equally impossible to find a comfortable position to sleep on this bed, because this bed is a piece of crap.

 

* * *

 

“What’s going on?” Dee asks as Dennis runs over with Mac in tow, signing off on some paperwork to get her dumb vibrating bed. Dennis should probably stop calling it dumb, since he liked the bed Dee showed him and he’s getting a similar model, but he’s not in the mood to care for irony. 

“I picked a bed, we’re leaving,” Dennis hastily explains, pushing Dee aside and demanding to get whatever paperwork he needs to do done and dusted so that they can get out of here.

“Really?” Dee looks amazed. “I thought you’d take at least a few more hours–“ she gives Mac an inquisitive stare–“what happened?”

“Uh, well, I was talking to this dude who wanted to give me his number and then Dennis came over and started yelling, so we left,” Mac’s lips spread across his face as he gently recounts this, happy. “It all happened very fast.”

“Oh,” Dee nods knowingly. “He got all jealous, okay, that explains everything.”

“Dee, you bitch, I did not get _jealous_ ,” Dennis smacks his pen down on the table, and the staff member gives him the go ahead to leave. “If anything, I was angry because Mac was wasting time, _precious_ time, that he could’ve spent evaluating mattress quality of the products they keep in this shithole–“

“Hey, hey what’s going on?” Charlie walks up, with a face of incredulity that matches the look on Frank’s face. “We leaving or something?”

“Oh yeah, big time,” Dee nods. “Mac was flirting with this guy–“

“Oh, Dennis got jealous? ‘Kay, that works–“

“Charlie, not you too!” Dennis groans, loudly and with a lot of pent up frustration. “Once again, I did not get jealous!”

“Whatever, dude. Just give Frank and I a minute, we gotta mattress to buy.”

“You and Frank buying a mattress too?”

“Yeah, Dee. We’re gonna slowly exchange the old stuffing in our couch bed for the new stuffing from this mattress. Gotta keep our backs in check and all that, y’know.”

“Oh, that’s a _fantastic_ idea,” Dennis knows that Dee doesn’t think that at all, and that she, like Dennis, knows how stupid Frank and Charlie’s idea is, but she’s patronizing them because she loves seeing how much this tears away at Dennis, just wants to watch him come apart from the sheer frustration of it all, which makes her the biggest bitch in the world.

“Ooh! That sounds awesome. Should I get new stuffing for my bed too?”

Okay, that’s it. Mac finding that a good idea is Dennis’ limit. He can’t have Mac bringing that kind of stupidity into their home. “Mac, stop, stop, you imbecile, you savage idiot–“ he takes a deep breath, trying to keep it together because Mac looks genuinely upset by his words–“your bed is fine. Your bed is perfectly good for sleeping on, you do not need new stuffing. Okay?”

Mac is smiling now, which is a worry and a relief. “Yeah. Yeah, dude, you’d know.”

Right. Because Dennis has been sleeping in Mac’s bed. That’s not the point, even though it is Mac’s point, and it is... true. The gang exchanges questioning and somehow knowing looks at this, but Dennis can’t be bothered with it all anymore.

“Frank, Charlie, can you please hurry up and buy your stupid bed? Let’s get the hell out of here.”

 

* * *

 

Dennis dials the number for Mattress Firm, or Mattress TooFirm, which is a name more befitting of their terrible beds, planning to demand a refund. Then he realizes that the store is closed and he gives up, hating his entire life.

 

* * *

 

“Anyone up for some pizza?” The gang cheers as Dennis suggests this, and it brings him a certain joy, even though this joy is cheap, because his friends are a bunch of food guzzling idiots who’ll say yes to anything that’s good. Anything that’s easy, even. But Dennis has to admit pizza sounds fantastic, as he dials the familiar number to their favorite pizza place.

They all drink up, play some games, trade stupid stories, occasionally serve a customer or two all as they hang out at Paddy’s. You know, their usual daily routine. Halfway through a game of pool with Mac, however, Dennis leaves to go to the bathroom because of a stomachache. Of course, he doesn’t tell Mac this, because it’s a shameful act that they all do in secret, and also, it’s not like Mac isn’t gonna wait for him. He’ll play a game or something on his phone, if he gets bored. Mac can take care of himself.

Except, when Dennis emerges from the bathroom, refreshed, having spent some time on his phone in the toilet as well (because who wouldn’t?), he sees the unimaginable. He sees something that makes him feel... well, _absolutely betrayed_ is a word for it.

“Mac? What are you doing?”

What _is_ Mac doing, you ask? Oh, nothing, he’s just playing pool with some other dude! Completely disrupting his and Dennis’ game! That Dennis was winning, by the way, so it’s completely a dick move on Mac’s part. And not only that—Mac’s bent over this dude—hands on top of this other dude’s hands, probably trying to show him how to play pool, which is completely stupid and slutty of Mac, because who doesn’t know how to play pool?? And who’s stupid enough to need someone to literally hold their hand through it? Surely, even if Mac found this degenerate a suitable opponent in the game, he’d back off once he saw the state of his skillset, not to mention—teaching him? Really Mac?

“Oh, dude, you’re back. This is Harold–“

HAROLD??? WHAT KIND OF A FUCKING NAME IS HAROLD??

“Hi,” Harold, the stupid son of a bitch, waves nervously at Dennis. Good. Be afraid.

“Oh. What is this, Mac?” he asks slowly, jaw stiff, and he can tell this makes even Mac wary of him. Just slightly.

“I know, I know, we were in the middle of a game, but Harold saw us playing and wanted me to teach him! Besides, I took a picture of the balls and everything, so we can always just reset it the way it was.”

“But it won’t be the same–“ Dennis exhales, feeling an incredible weight press down on his chest. It’s too much, and he wants it all to stop. He wants this to stop, this especially, Mac and Harry, he wants that shit to stop. “You know what? Screw this. Fuck all of this. You—get out.”

Mac looks around in confusion, before pointing to himself. “Me?”

“Not you, Mac, you stay put, I meant him!” He points to... Hanthony, or whatever his name is. “Get out! And don’t come back.”

Hogan runs fearfully after putting down his cue stick, and Mac’s got this face going on, a face which lets Dennis know he’s not somehow horrified by all this. And since Dennis cleared up earlier that he wasn’t jealous, Mac’s probably just happy because he knows Dennis is doing the right thing, the proper thing. Good. At least Mac knows a good decision when he sees one. He must’ve finally realized that Hunther wasn’t worth a goddamn second of his time, and that Dennis was right to kick him out, like always.

“Dennis?” Dee’s voice rolls out in concern from behind the bar, and he feels dread build up inside of him. “Can we talk to you for a second in the back office?”

“Yeah. We gotta talk, dude,” god, and Charlie too? What the hell is going on?

“Ooh, is it a company meeting? Can I come?” Somehow, Dennis has a bad feeling about all this, and is glad that Mac wants in. But Charlie and Dee shake their heads.

“Nope! Just me, Charlie, and Dennis.”

“Yeah, I’m not goin’ either,” assures Frank. “C’mon, Mac, we’ll play a video game. Any of the new ones, any one you want.”

Mac seems to light up at this, immediately starting to talk animatedly about some dumb expensive game he wants Frank to get for him, and Frank obliges, which makes Dennis envious as all hell because he’d rather be a part of that fun, as compared to whatever hellish conversation he’s about to have with Dee and Charlie.

The door shuts behind all three of them, and Dennis sits on the big chair, trying to look relaxed, trying to seem in control, because he is in control.

“So? What’s going on?”

“Look man, we’re all happy you’re back and shit, but you’re being super weird–“

“What the fuck is your problem, Dennis?” Dee interrupts. “I mean, kicking out customers for flirting with Mac?”

“Why do you care?” Because Dee shouldn’t care, she doesn’t own any part of the bar. “Besides, I didn’t kick that guy out for flirting with Mac, they weren’t flirting, he destroyed our game! He was being a complete nuisance, and he was being a pain in my ass.”

“Since when do we kick people out for playing pool with Mac?” Dee sighs. “Okay, fine. Let’s pretend that doesn’t matter–“

“–because it doesn’t–“

“Dude,” Charlie digs the ends of his palms against his forehead. “You’ve been acting real weird since you got back, man. We get it, you have feelings for Mac, but that doesn’t mean–“

“I do not have _feelings_ for Mac!”

The fact that they would even think that— _how could they?_

“Then what’s the matter with you?” Dee snaps. “You keep flying off the handle at the slightest thing, and most of those things have something to do with Mac. And the–“

“I’ve been having sex dreams, okay?!”

“Huh?!”

Dee and Charlie express this confusion simultaneously, which Dennis can’t blame them for, because it’s weird, this whole thing is super weird, and maybe he is going crazy, but it’s because of the sex dreams and nothing else. The two of them have clearly mistaken that for Dennis having feelings for Mac, which is, which is downright impossible, but he supposes he can’t blame them, again.

“About Mac. I’ve been having sex dreams about Mac.”

“Oh–“ Dee and Charlie both nod in understanding now, good. “And?”

“And? What do you mean ‘and’? These—these sex dreams, they come every night, they, they’re always about Mac, it’s been happening for months and it won’t stop! And that’s why I came back to Philly, that’s why I left North Dakota. It was to try and figure out how to make it stop. Which I’ve clearly failed at, so far.” He crumbles, face falling into his empty hands. He feels oddly better now, having opened up to Dee and Charlie this way, he feels like he’d been carrying this huge secret and it had been pressing down on his shoulders, getting heavier and heavier until his body went numb. And now... he can feel again.

“Okay...” they both seem to be trying their best to process this. “and when did these uh, these dreams start?” asks Charlie, like he’s a doctor trying to treat the flu.

“About—it was the night of the Super Bowl final.”

Their eyes widen and they give each other knowing looks, which Dennis does not appreciate.

“You mean... when Mac and Rex made out?”

Dennis clenches his eyes shut tight before opening them again. “Yes. But that has nothing to do with–“

“Honestly, dude, it just seems like you wanna fuck Mac–“

“I DO NOT–“

“Okay!” Dee grabs onto his shoulders and settles him back on his seat before he decks Charlie in the face. “Easy there, Dennis. Look, we’re not trying to accuse you of anything. But... you’ve tried everything, yes? Aside from banging Mac?”

Dennis huffs, getting up. “Forget this, I’m leaving.”

Neither of them stop him, and that fact actually makes him angrier.

He’s only soothed when he emerges from the office to see Mac getting several pizza boxes from the delivery man. Mac sets the pizzas down on the counter on his own, before turning around to retrieve the last—wait. Is that delivery guy writing something on the box? Is that his number?

This is... he really can’t take this anymore. How is it that every single guy Mac meets these days is somehow into dudes and interested in him? And how do they know that Mac’s into dudes? Is Mac carrying around an ‘I’m Gay’ sign around his neck that’s imperceptible to the straight eye? Is he wearing a rainbow colored bracelet around his wrist, or ankle? Jesus fucking christ.

But the pizza guy leaves before Dennis can say a word, and something in him stops himself from lashing out—because if he does—Dee, Charlie, and perhaps even Frank won’t see the logic in it. They’ll just jump to their stupid baseless conclusions like the useless idiots they are.

Mac catches sight of him and waves him over, as if he’s not already less than ten feet away from him. “Get over here, dude, pizzas’ arrived.”

Well, he is hungry. Dennis helps himself to a slice, as does Frank, after he’s done saving whatever game he and Mac were playing. Thankfully it’s not Virtual Reality again, watching them play that got weird, and it also badly messed with their heads.

After a few bites, Dennis finds he can’t resist the urge to ask any longer. “So what’s with the number?” he taps the tainted box for effect.

Mac glances over at the box like he doesn’t even remember that happened. “Oh, right. Yeah, I don’t know how, but word’s going around that I’m gay. Think it started at the gym when a couple of chicks were hitting on me.”

Frank raises his eyebrow at this, interested. “Gym broads were hittin’ on you? You’re bringing me next time.”

“Frank, I invited you last time and you told me you didn’t want weird dudes sweating all over you.”

“You didn’t mention girls!” Frank retorts. “Oh. They better not be all muscular and gross, Mac. I don’t like my women like that. Too much ‘man’ and not enough ‘wo’.”

“Don’t worry, Frank. What most of the women at my gym do can barely be considered a workout. I’m so sick of hearing how they’re just trying to tone their damn arms, and keep things tight. Men are busy trying to get jacked, and build our bodies–“

“Oh, who cares. The broads have to be there to, to lure in the dudes. If not, who would go to the gym?”

Mac purses his lips, and appears to not want to argue with that logic. “Either way, Frank, I’m glad you’re coming with me. I mean, with you there, you’ll sca—I mean uh—take focus off of me. So I can work out in peace. I swear, it’s like they’re swarming over me. I’ve never had that many girls hitting on me at the gym, even when I was straight.”

“You were never straight, Mac. You’re as gay as they come,” Frank interjects.

“Eh, whatever. I guess it is true what they say: girls want dudes they can never have.”

Dennis wants very badly to argue that girls flocking to hit on Mac has nothing to do with his homosexuality and everything to do with his new, incredibly built body. But he’s got his mouth full of pizza and just then, Dee and Charlie emerge from the room, not even sounding like they’re talking about him anymore, which is insulting. It’s like they barely care, even though Dennis told them to forget it.

“Hey! Why didn’t anyone tell us the pizza was here?” Dee whines, snatching up a piece immediately, her voice especially shrill.

“You snooze, you lose,” Mac teases, reaching for another slice.

Just then, they hear a truck pull up in front of Paddy’s, and about half a minute later someone’s coming into the bar and telling them they’ve got three beds to deliver, which sparks a huge argument about whose fault it is that their billing location and shipping location was marked the same.

 

* * *

 

Dennis gets off his stupid bed. He can’t sleep in here, there’s no point. He decides to go look for Mac, even though he’s still mad at Mac for flirting with every man that moves. Anyway, no matter the case, Dennis is exhausted, and he needs to sleep. So at this point it’s either hop under the covers with Mac or nothing.

He barges in the room, and he almost wishes he’d knocked—but nothing can beat the sight he walks in on—Mac has his bible out, opened to some random page and his eyes are shut. The kicker though? He’s got his hand around his dick, pumping it nice and slow.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> im so tired omg i hope this uh is not crap n i didnt hallucinate the last 29 hours 
> 
> pls comment n kudos so i wake up to sth nice bbs


	3. who am i to disagree?

Mac scrambles to cover things up—in a split second—he’s shoved his bible off his lap and dragged the duvet over his crotch. He’s acting like a teenager who just got caught masturbating by his dad, and the thought is hilarious to Dennis, because that’s far from the truth. Mac is in his early forties and it’s not like Dennis has never seen him masturbate. 

He laughs as he inches closer, getting onto the bed next to an increasingly horrified Mac.

“Why didn’t you knock, bro?” he accuses, highly defensive, even though he doesn’t need to be.

“Why did you hide yourself from me?” Dennis retorts, reaching over Mac’s lap to pick up the fallen bible from the floor. “Not like I’ve never seen you jack it–“ he lays the book down before Mac, oddly not bothered by how sticky it is–“this though... this is new. What is this?”

Mac swallows, even more nervous now, Dennis can tell, and he revels in it. He drinks in Mac’s shame, Mac’s guilt, and it burns at the pit of his belly like top-shelf scotch. “Uh... it’s, it’s nothing, dude. Just, forget it.”

He tries to get up but Dennis grabs onto him, pins him back down, and Mac lets him. He’s staring into Dennis’ eyes now, waiting for something. “It’s not nothing. We’ve all got our fetishes, Mac. And as far as I’m concerned, I thought we were supposed to _tell_ each other what we were into. Is this new, or have you been lying to me?”

It’s true. Mac and Dennis once spent an interesting day telling each other their kinks, and sourcing for whatever suited their fancies on the internet, taking turns to experience each other’s deepest desires. They promised no judgement, they promised to be honest about whether something was working or not working for them. It was a long day (or to be honest, days) of mutual masturbation that they both benefitted from. But it was their strengthened friendship that gained most of all.

“I... I don’t know. I don’t really know what this is. Dennis–“

Dennis shushes Mac and watches as the man obeys, biting down on his lip. “It’s okay. Let’s explore this, Mac. Maybe I can figure out what it is you like so much about–“ he gestures over the open book and Mac’s still-hard cock–“all this.”

It’s interesting how Mac has been able to remain erect all this time, but Dennis is more curious about Mac’s newly-discovered bible-related kink. He’s intrigued, wants to know what about it is so appealing for Mac, and also he wants to help his buddy out. They’ve always helped each other out, Dennis can’t count how many times Mac has let him tie him up to experiment with various types of knots and different ways to bind someone up (It was all the more disappointing to see Mac prove largely incompetent when he tested him and taught the rest on Dennis Day. Apparently getting tied up over and over again taught the man close to nothing about proper knot technique). The least he can do is help his pal get off with confidence to whatever weird god shit he’s into.

Dennis flips through Mac’s bible, noticing how it’s sticky throughout. Of course. Oh Mac, you kinky son of a bitch. “What’s your favorite book in the bible?”

Mac hesitates for a moment, and it’s unclear whether this is because he’s taken aback by the question or if he genuinely hasn’t thought about it before. “Uh... Genesis.”

Of course. It’s the beginning of the damn thing, and Mac quotes from it all the damn time. Dennis bets he was too lazy to really read the whole thing. In fact, Dennis is sure he knows more about the bible than Mac does. Now, he’s no Catholic, or Christian, or at all interested in any aspect of God, but he’s read the bible. He’s wondered what the big fuss was, and he’s worked his way through the thing years ago, bored and high on weed in Mac’s home all the way back in their high school days.

“Okay,” he watches Mac, clearly flustered, fingers pinching at his outer thigh as if to stop himself from reaching for his boner. “And which one gets you off the most?”

Dennis lets the book fall limp, the edges dragging down his shaft and Mac moans, the sound ripping from his throat like a kicked puppy. He watches as pre-come leaks from Mac’s slit and absentmindedly licks his lips. He’d never tell Mac this, but... he does have a rather nice looking cock. He means that in a complimentary manner, one man to another. Before anyone gets this all warped, Dennis would like to emphasize that he’s helping Mac get off as a form of courtesy, he’s not _gay_ , he’s a _good friend._ Besides, seeing how Dennis is about to ask Mac to share his bed with him, it’s in their best interest for Dennis to help Mac get off until he’s good and sated. After all, what would be the alternative? Leave Mac sexually frustrated? The kid might rut against Dennis in his sleep, and that’s something he wants to avoid. Which makes this even _less_ gay.

“...Genesis.”

Dennis chuckles again, because how predictable. “What about Genesis, Mac? Is it Adam? Moses? Abraham?”

Mac is refusing to answer, and he’s pinching himself so hard Dennis worries he might hurt himself, so he grabs Mac’s hand and guides it until he has it wrapped around his cock, slowly pumping it in his enclosed fist. A soft whimper escapes his lips like a thank you. “Mac, if you’re not telling me what you like so much about Genesis, I’m gonna have to make a guess myself.” He studies the book more carefully this time as Mac maintains a slow but well-paced rhythm. “Hmm. Okay. I think I’ve got this. You don’t care about the humans, they’re just like you and most of them are old and weak as shit anyway... is it God?” Mac speeds up just a tiny bit, and it’s more than enough to spur Dennis on. “Oh yes—you love the power of an almighty being, don’t you Mac? You like the thought of someone, something so strong, you want to get pinned down, don’t you?” He leans in closer when he says all this, and the combination of everything gets Mac going faster and more breathless. “Mm... I bet you think about the angels too,” Mac’s breath catches in his throat. Perfect. “You think they’re all powerful and loved by God, and that they’re stacked with muscles, I bet you want to pin an angel down, make him submit to your will... you wanna fuck an angel, don’t you, Mac?”

Mac mumbles something that he vaguely recognizes as ‘ _Dennis, please’,_ his voice is toast, and his eyes are shut as he whimpers unintelligible sounds.

“Oh Mac... you’re so far gone, aren’t you?” Dennis continues, determined to bring him over the edge with his words. It’s making him feel powerful, he’s enjoying this, and it’s validating his decision to help Mac explore his fetish. “God must be so disappointed in you, he sees what a degenerate you are, and he wants you to apologize. He wants you to promise you’ll be a better boy–“

When Mac comes, he does it with a shout and with his free hand clinging onto Dennis’ thigh, pressing down on it as he drags out his shaky orgasm. His hips thrust forth unwittingly and he falls back onto the mattress when it ends. He’s messed up his shorts, and that’s probably the price paid for the bible being in Dennis’ hands instead of Mac’s lap, but it’s clear neither of them care about that. Dennis finds himself fascinated watching Mac climax. He realizes he never took the time to observe his friend during this process before (usually, Dennis would be preoccupied with his own orgasm), and it’s... oddly beautiful. Dennis only wishes he could have saved it.

All in all, it’s a well-conducted experiment. Dennis feels proud of himself, and he’s sure Mac’s incredibly satisfied. “You feel better?” he asks and Mac nods quickly. “Good. Go shower or something, I’m sleeping here again. New bed feels like shit.”

Mac nods quickly once more, seemingly rattled by something as he rushes into the shower, but Dennis chalks it up to disbelief, disbelief at how good Dennis made him feel with just his words. But then again, should Mac be surprised? Dennis is a master at everything he tries.

He slowly drifts off as his head hits the pillow, and he doesn’t hear so much as a word from Mac until the next morning.

 

* * *

 

“Dude, you sure you wanna go?” Mac’s voice is laced with reservations, clearly unwilling to let Dennis accompany him to the gym, and he more than understands why Mac would feel this way. As hard as Dennis has tried, he’s come to the conclusion that he’ll probably never get Mac to fall out of love with him. He’s simply too irresistible, and Mac would never be able to push thoughts of Dennis out his head, especially with them living in such close quarters. He’ll never be able to stop the lingering looks Mac offers when he thinks Dennis isn’t watching, he’ll never be able to stop the soft murmurs of his name coming from Mac when he walks past the shower, he’ll never be able to curb Mac’s hopes, his enthusiasm, his love. Mac is as stubborn as they come, and it’s simultaneously his best and worst quality.

And as much as Dennis wants Mac to stop being so goddamn devoted to him because really, it’s _never_ going to happen—he supposes his devotion to Dennis is flattering, and part of what he likes so much about Mac, why their friendship has lasted decades, and will probably go on for the rest of their lives.

But while Dennis understands why Mac will never be over him, it doesn’t stand to reason why he can’t keep hitting on women and sleeping with them, even if Mac has to watch. Besides, Dennis needs to get back in the game and sleep with a girl as soon as possible—he’s starting to believe that perhaps that will put the dreams to an end—after all, he definitely hasn’t slept with a woman in a long time, especially not since he started having these crackhead dreams, so hitting on girls at the gym is a start.

It’s not ideal, since it’s not his usual hunting ground, but he’s struck out with every woman he hit on at Paddy’s, so maybe it’s time for a fresh start, a new place with fresh meat so that Dennis Reynolds can go on the prowl.

And yes, yes, of course—he’s not _just_ going to try and have sex with a woman again because of the whole sex dream thing—he _wants_ to have sex with women, because that’s what Dennis is wont to do, regardless of whether he has sex dreams about Mac on a nightly basis or not.

Speaking of which, last night he only dreamt of Mac giving him a handjob, which, well, that should be progress, right? After all, how gay is a handjob, really. Men—no, _the human race_ —aren’t we all really just giving _ourselves_ handjobs when we get off? So yes, the dreams seem to have calmed down a bit, so really, Dennis is going to the gym with the intention of getting into a girl’s yoga pants because women are just... so goddamn irresistible. Yeah. Yeah, they are.

“Say no more, Mac, I’m coming along–“ he takes a sip of his fresh-pressed fruit and vegetable juice that he made Mac wait for in line with him a full half-hour to get–“gyms are filled to the brim with women these days, women that care about their bodies and _appreciate_ men that keep it tight.” He gestures to himself. “And they’re all waiting for me.” Dennis turns to look at Mac, who’s grimacing as he takes light sips at his own juice. “Besides, didn’t you need someone there to distract the girls chasing you?”

Mac shrugs. “I mean, that’s what Frank is for.”

“Frank is a piss-poor excuse of a man, Mac. He wouldn’t be able to seduce anything that _moves_ without that wad of cash he carries around with him, you and I both know that.”

“I know, Dennis, that’s why I invited Frank—he’s supposed to gross out the girls so they leave me alone–“

“Exactly my point, Mac–“ Dennis sucks harder on his juice–“I’ll accomplish the same by _seducing_ these girls so their attentions are off you.”

They reach the bar, and when they swing the door open Frank is ready with his gym look and all—but so are Dee and Charlie. Which is weird, because Mac never invited Dee and Charlie to go to the gym with him.

“Alright! Mac and Dennis are here, let’s go, let’s go!” Dee slings a duffel bag over her shoulder, apparently hyped up, and makes a beeline for the door, only to be stopped by Dennis.

“Woah woah woah Dee—where do you think you’re going? Since when were you invited?”

Dee rolls her eyes. “Since when do people have to be _invited_ to go to the gym? Besides, I knew all you losers would wanna go, and I’m sure as hell not getting stuck back here, running the bar all by myself.”

Dennis scoffs, looking past her at Frank. “So what, we’re just closing the bar? We haven’t pulled in anything these past few–“

“Eh, it’s whatever, dude,” Charlie assures Dennis. “No one’s even here today, we close up early all the time.”

“Yeah,” Mac assures Dennis, patting him on the back. “Honestly, at this point, we’re all just here to get our drink on.”

“Besides,” continues Charlie. “Everyone knows this bar is just a front for Frank’s–“

Frank smacks Charlie in the chest, prompting him to shut up, but it’s not like that hides anything from the rest of the gang. Everyone knows that Frank uses the bar’s name to hide, cover up a lot of the illicit and illegal activity he gets up to. But then again... it brings in money, and Dennis is getting the promise of a paycheck despite not doing any work. So maybe he should relax his attitude, now that he’s back in Philly and no longer has to work his ass off. Yes, just go with the flow, come what may, and ignore the lack of profits the bar is bringing, despite the occasional instances where somewhere in the back of his mind, a voice bites at him for being inadequate.

“Okay... so uh—I guess we’re all going to the gym?”

 

* * *

 

“So...” Dee lets out a disgusting sounding grunt as she puts down whatever equipment she’s using to overexert herself. “You’re here to hit on girls?”

Dennis sighs, looking around carefully. He’s seriously re-examining his decision to work out with Dee instead of joining Frank and Charlie at the juice bar this surprisingly big and well-equipped gym has. And yes, of course Frank got distracted by the snacks and other crap they sell there. He’s too much of a glutton to ignore those things. “Yes, Dee. Specifically, girls that are trying to hit on Mac as he works out.” Dennis lifts up a weight, then slowly puts it back down, watching his muscles move beautifully.

“Uh huh,” Dee acknowledges. “So why are you here with me and not him?”

“Because, Deandra–“ Dennis sighs, unable to believe he has to spell this out for her– “as I’m sure you’ve _failed_ to notice, Mac isn’t currently getting hit on by a girl. Or anyone, for that matter. I’m starting to think he’s exaggerating his girl problems at the gym, which honestly, wouldn’t surprise me at all, knowing him,” he shakes his head with a snort.

Dee elects to ignore most of that, and of course she does, the ignorant fool she is. “Okay, so... why wait?”

“Wait for what?”

“If you’re here to hit on girls and bring them home then go do that—why wait for one of them to hit on Mac first?”

She’s doing that thing again, where she brings up a point and gets that look on her face that lets the whole world see how smart she thinks she is, and obviously, she’s wrong, _horribly_ wrong, and a huge idiot.

“Because there is a precedent that has to be set here, Dee, and whether you understand it or not makes no difference to me! These girls need to think I’m one of _them_ ,” he angrily whispers, seething but keeping his voice down, lest he give the game away. “They need to slowly observe me from a distance as just... one of the guys. An attractive man, who cares about his body, and isn’t here for them. So when I make my move–“

“You mean when they make their move on Mac–“

“Fine, yes, you bitch—when they make their move on Mac—I’ll be there, conveniently, very meet-cute, ready to swoop in for the kill. And they’ll never see it coming,” he finishes, chortling to himself because what a masterful plan, what a great scheme, yet another–

“Cool.” Dee looks unamused, which is expected. Her simple mind could never comprehend the complexities of Dennis’ games. The dalliance, the dance you have to play out with a woman before you bed her. “Just one last thing... at what point during your seduction technique do you tell these girls that you have sex dreams about the guy they’re trying to hit on every night?”

Dennis nearly strangles Dee in the middle of the gym, and the anger, the untethered rage that fills him because he would never be able to get away with it right here, right now makes the look on Dee’s face grow ever more smug.

“At no point, Dee, at no point! And I swear to god, if you say another word–“

She looks past his shoulder and smirks. “Well, lucky for you, I won’t have to. ‘Cause looks like a vulture’s about to swoop down on your boy toy.”

He hates that he turned around, because the disgusting way in which those words dripped from Dee’s lips made it seem an awful lot like he felt threatened by the double-breasted woman hovering over Mac, when really, _he’s_ the vulture (but in a majestic way, a bird that’s not a vulture, like an eagle, perhaps), and _she’s_ the prey! Or girl toy, or—no nope, he’s not going there. He’s not going to let Dee screw with him like this.

He takes quick and long strides towards the woman, who’s now offering Mac a cold bottle of unopened water after that strenuous set of... whatever he was doing.

“Hey,” he greets, leaning against some metal bar and panting a little more than he should be. Maybe he shouldn’t have situated himself so far away from Mac, and maybe he shouldn’t have let himself get so bothered by Dee’s words. So what if they’re true? It doesn’t matter, the goal here today is to make sure her words aren’t true any longer, he wants his sex dreams of Mac cancelled more abruptly than _Roseanne_ after those racist tweets. Then he wants to celebrate it with a couple of Piña Coladas, and a hot, naked woman pinned underneath him.

“I’m sorry, are you _gagging_?” The girl takes a step back in case Dennis hurls, which turns him off. Should he even be bothering with this one?

“Uh,” he clears his throat, composing himself. “No, no, just been... been working my ass off around here.”

“You okay, Dennis?” The girl relaxes slightly to hear Mac acknowledge Dennis as someone he knows, but not significantly enough for her to open up to him. “Want some water?”

“Sure,” and Dennis takes the bottle, almost snatches it from the girl’s hand, and she looks slightly offended but lets it happen. Good, that’s a good sign. Dennis maintains eye contact with her as he gulps down a quarter of the water. Her letting him have this drink is the first step towards her letting him have so much more.

“Actually, that water was for Mac–“

“Well, Mac’s not _thirsty_ ,” Dennis’ throat tightens, because goddamn it this girl is annoying.

“Uh, actually dude...” Mac scratches his head. “I am a little. Can I get some of–“

Dennis rolls his eyes but uncaps the bottle and hands it over to him, watching as Mac drinks it up, as does the stupid woman who’s stubbornly hitting on him. And no, Dennis isn’t watching Mac because he’s just as attracted to him as she is, it’s because Mac asking for water derailed the conversation he was having and now he has to think of his next move.

When Mac finishes, he looks uncomfortable with the situation. Dennis supposes that like him, Mac doesn’t know what the right move here is either. “Uh... I’m gonna do some crunches.”

That god-awful woman’s eyes light up as she clasps her hands together in glee, how fucking insufferable. Yes, you can see Mac’s abs and his muscles and what have you while he’s doing those crunches at an impressive speed, whatever. Dennis is sick of it, and at this point he doesn’t so much as want to sleep with her, he just wants to stop her from slobbering over his friend.

“So hey, what’s your business with Mac?” Dennis gets right down to it, accusatory tone and all, and of course the girl takes the bait.

(Not that there was really any bait to take. Dennis is just lashing out at this point.)

“I’m new here, I’m trying to get some pointers on what to do from Mac, who clearly, knows a thing or two more than either of us.”

Dennis brushes off the jab, because whatever, he’s half convinced this girl here’s a lesbian at this point who just really admires Mac’s workout techniques. “Okay, well, if you’re planning on hitting on him–“

“Why do you care if I hit on him or not?”

Her arms are crossed defensively, and Dennis crosses his own to match hers because two can play at that game, and he will make this girl eat her own tears if he has to, but there’s no way in hell he’s losing to her. “Because you shouldn’t be hitting on him. In fact, you’d have a better chance hitting on me–“

“And why is that?”

“You really are new here, huh? Maybe if you took a lap around the city one day you’d see that Mac would never be interested in someone like you, because you’re even more annoying than the fact that half the men in Philadelphia are trying to hit on him, wherever he goes!”

She seems to piece it together now, finally. She can tell that Mac is gay, which is a relief, because Dennis really thought he’d have to spell it out for–

“Oh my god, I’m so sorry, I didn’t mean to flirt with your boyfriend!”

“Wait, what?!”

Dennis freezes up, everyone around them freezes up, and even Mac, who’s mid-crunch, freezes up. It’s like a picturesque freeze frame scene in a movie. Except the words Dennis finds himself wanting to spew at this girl is far from flick material.

“It’s all my fault, I really should’ve known and this is so embarrassing–“

“Mac’s not—we’re not—I’m not his boyfriend!” But by the time he manages to get the words out coherently, the girl’s run off, and he’s not sure she’ll come back to the gym, ever. Dennis doesn’t care if she does anyway, but he is incredibly offended by her stupid assumption. Because—where in the hell did she get that from? That idiot, that imbecile, that stupid little bitch!

Dennis practically stomps away from Mac who calls him once or twice but then gives up and goes back to whatever grunt-heavy workout he wanted to engage in. He’s had enough of this day, and this hitting on girls that are trying to hit on Mac thing was probably a flawed concept to begin with, that’s why it’s all going to crap. Maybe he’ll have better luck with Frank and Charlie at the juice bar, or whatever that place is supposed to be. There’s gotta be a girl or two there, right? Dennis didn’t really take note, he was too preoccupied with following Mac into the actual gym–

“Dude, you jacked off with him? That’s so gay, man!”

“What? No way dude, we were just watching porn together, it happens! Just bros being bros, can’t you see that?”

“So when are you taking him to dinner?”

“Excuse me, gentlemen–“ Dennis cuts in right before they walk past him, unable to take it anymore–“but I have to butt in here.”

They look at him questioningly. “Uh... do we know you, man?”

He offers something that’s a shake of his head and a shrug of his shoulder at the same time. “Doesn’t matter. What I’m here to say is that two men masturbating, side by side, not touching each other, it’s—it’s not gay, okay?”

“Hah! See dude? What’d I tell you? Not _gay_ –“

“Whatever dude! Your ass is so far back in the closet the thing’s practically a walk in! Just because some other closeted dude tells you it’s not–“

“No no no–“ Dennis nervously refutes this with shaky laughs–“no no, not a gay man. I’m not closeted, guy.”

The man shrugs, biting down on his lip. “Okay, sure dude, whatever you say, we don’t even–“

“I AM A STRAIGHT–“

“Woah woah woah, what’s going on here?” Dee cuts in with that ever so piercing screech of hers, walking up to them with a drink that has a tiny umbrella sticking out of it. And Dennis resents how she has that, because he could really go for an umbrella drink right now. He could go for a lot of things, actually, starting from this fucking guy’s throat–

“You know this dude?”

“Unfortunately. He’s my brother. What’s going on?” She takes a big sip of her drink. She has a fun squiggly straw too, making the whole display just—incredibly annoying.

“Uh, for starters, he keeps insisting that he’s not gay even though we really don’t care, once again dude, we have no idea who you are–“

Dennis lunges for the man who jumps back, and feels himself get dragged by the shirt, caught in Dee’s fist. “Okay, that’s it, thank you, I’ve got it from here–“

The two men whose existences seem mostly pointless, like they were just put there to make Dennis feel even more awful and on edge about his sexuality than he had already been today, run off in fear. He shrugs off Dee’s grip on his shirt, and lets out some disgruntled noise that she once again ignores.

“Come on. We’re getting you some juice.”

 

* * *

 

A tall glass of juice (complete with a little tiny umbrella and a very fun squiggly straw) and several bottles beer (plus whatever else Dennis drank, we’re not keeping score here) later, Dennis comes to the conclusion that he needs to change up his sex life if he’s going to get anywhere with his life, if he’s going to get anywhere with this sex dream problem.

If the fiasco at the gym taught him anything, it was that his usual lifestyle of meeting girls, talking them into the palm of his hand, bringing them home and banging them is just not working out anymore. Perhaps he needs to simplify it, perhaps he needs to make it more complicated, add to it, enhance it.

Maybe he needs to do all those things, maybe the largely vanilla way he was usually going about sex just wasn’t enough. Maybe girls, on their own, just aren’t enough anymore.

And that’s how Dennis devises his plan to convert his bedroom into a bondage facility, which he tells Mac about, of course, because after he wired his bed to the alarm clock and automated video message on his laptop, the room just wasn’t able to function as a safe place for him to sleep in anymore. The risk of locking himself in his room was just far too high.

So he moves into Mac’s bed permanently, and Mac’s okay with it, and Dennis is okay with it, because there’s nothing weird about all that. Besides, they shared a bed with Dee and Old Black Man for a whole year, sleeping with other people was something they got used to, and now that it’s just the both of them? It’s much more comfortable now. Dennis isn’t sure if he can go back to sleeping alone again, and so it works.

Mac’s room becomes their bedroom, or sleeping quarters, and Dennis’ room becomes the perfectly curated bondage facility he envisioned it to be, after putting all his heart and soul into researching for it. He even has Mac try escaping from it several times, only to prove unsuccessful. And as he watched Mac try desperately to get out of Dennis’ room, looking genuinely scared as he banged on the doors and begged to be let out because he couldn’t crack it and wanted to give up (Dennis only ignored Mac because they had both always agreed to a time limit of one hour), Dennis definitely felt something raw, something inside him come alive, it was invigorating and quite frankly arousing to see.

Proving that the bondage facility works for Dennis because if Mac could get him to feel like that, who knows how fired up he’ll get when it’s a helpless woman trying to get out that door?

The bondage facility thus sits in Mac and Dennis’ apartment, ready and waiting for willing participants, all vetted and applying through Craigslist to ensure he gets matched with a proper woman, namely, one who’s able to meet his demands and seek out such challenges.

As of yet, he hasn’t found a suitable woman, but every night he falls asleep beside Mac, and life goes on. He has no reason to freak out about sharing a bed with his best friend, and ignores his dreams best as he can.

Until, that is, Dee happens. She brings up some crazy idea about how she wants the gang to do some escape room and how they’ll need Mac and Dennis’ apartment, and that sets off a bomb in his mind because no one knows about their arrangement, and chaste as it might be, he knows what they’re going to think and say, and Dennis himself being okay with what they have is one thing, but letting the rest know is something else altogether.

Which is why Dennis rushes back to their apartment before everything starts and cleans up the “evidence”, namely, he stuffs the extra pillows and blankets in Mac’s closet and even removes the bed sheets—they smell too much like him—and if Mac notices during the escape room he doesn’t say a thing.

In fact, he’s quietly putting the bed sheets back on now.

“Sorry,” Dennis offhandedly apologizes as he assists Mac with the other side of the bed, before going to retrieve the other stuff he had hidden. “I didn’t have the time to tell you.”

If Mac looks surprised, it’s only due to the apology. “Yeah, I know. They’d be all weird about it. And like, they shouldn’t be, right? Because what’s wrong with two bros–“

“Mac, you’re, you’re bleeding–“

Before Mac can respond, touch his cheek, anything, Dennis is rushing forth to examine him, and then moving past him to go get some antiseptic cream or bandages from their first-aid kit. Of course Dennis doesn’t feel bad for scratching Mac—it was his fault for trying to hang onto the heart-shaped lock despite proclaiming Dennis as his leader but maybe... Dennis scratched him a little too hard this time.

“Dennis, really, it’s okay–“ he ignores Mac and starts cleaning his scratches. Obviously he’s not bleeding profusely, it’s barely anything to fret over, and perhaps Mac might have aggravated the injury on his own and this has nothing to do with Dennis, nothing to do with him, not his fault. Still, the pounding of his heart refuses to fade until he’s finished playing doctor.

“Thanks,” Mac mumbles with a tiny smile when he’s done and putting the stuff away. “It doesn’t even like, hurt, but thanks anyway bro.”

Then Dennis is back face to face with Mac and there are words he feels he should say, amends to make, regrets he should harbor, but above all that are several layers of uncertainty. He starts to say something and then stops several times over before Mac puts an end to it and takes a shower.

They go to sleep again, and everything is okay.

 

* * *

 

Dennis’ eyes slowly creak open to see Mac’s own, soulful, dark in the moonlight, and staring at him.

“Mac?”

His voice is stuck in a sleepy haze and he can’t find it in him to say much more.

“Sorry. Woke up and couldn’t get back to sleep.”

“Why–“ Dennis clears his throat–“why’re you staring at me?”

“You’re beautiful when you sleep. I couldn’t... look away.”

“Yeah?”

Dennis is pretty convinced by now that he’s dreaming. What gave it away? Well, Mac is here, as he always is, and there’s no way he’d be awake if this were real. No matter what the man claims about his heightened senses, his sleeps are deep as they come. Once he’s out, he’s out, you know?

And that means Dennis isn’t in control either, which means he’s just spectating when he leans in and kisses Mac square on the lips. It means that when Mac pulls him in and touches him and something inside him explodes, when he moans into their kiss and slams their bodies together and pulls off Mac’s shirt, feels those muscles against his body... none of it is him, since it’s just a dream.

This dream is odd, though, because everything he feels is just so much more, he senses everything, the dead air in the room, the warmth of Mac’s body, the sounds they make more genuine somehow. But then again, he’s been having these dreams for so long it’s only right to assume they’d evolve.

And so Dennis ignores it and lets the dream continue, because he won’t wake up until it’s over.

“You think I’m beautiful?” Dennis asks as he kisses his way down Mac’s neck, the intricacies of it all, sucking claim over his skin. He tries not to cry at the way Mac is rubbing his erection against his crotch, his own hardening cock that wants so much, feels so neglected and deprived of a lot. This has happened in some fashion every night for several months yet it feels like the first time somehow.

“Yeah, dude, you always were,” Mac breathily agrees, impatiently pulling and grabbing at Dennis’ clothes too, he’s so insistent that Dennis sits up, taking a break from his assault on Mac’s neck, slipping his shirt off slowly and relishing the way Mac looks at him.

Dennis straddles Mac, pushing him flat down on the bed, and eyeing Mac’s body. That’s all his now. “You’re not too bad yourself.” He drags a finger down his torso and Mac shudders, his eyes falling shut. “Tell me, Mac. Was this for me? Did you do this for me?”

Mac nods his head, over and over again, hands holding tight onto his thighs. Those thighs, that Dennis knows he loves too. Does Mac love every inch of him? Does he see Dennis as a god?

His teeth scrape at his pecs, tongue soothing the nipple that he finds is oddly sensitive when the right pleasure is applied. He kisses his way back up to Mac’s face and pulls away when Mac starts kissing him back, running his hand over those abs, every single muscle he touches is a masterpiece.

“I hate this,” Dennis spits, resentment in his voice. “I hate you, and I fucking hate all of this.” Mac’s face falls a little, but he remains engaged. “Do you know how hot you are? How hard it was to ignore?” Mac shakes his head, smiling like the little shit he is, and Dennis hates how much he likes it. Mac’s smile. “You made me want you. I wanted you to fuck me so bad, I wanted to jump you several times, just, tear those stupid shirts of yours off. You know how annoying you were?”

Mac shakes his head. “Can’t be more annoying than you were though. I’ve wanted to fuck you for years.”

“Oh, I’m well aware of that.”

Mac pulls Dennis down and then flips them over, pining him to the mattress. “You know how many times I thought about you? I always wanted you under me like this, thought I’d never get it. You make me crazy, Dennis.”

He rolls his hips against Mac and the man lets out a painful cry, letting Dennis pull him close. “Tell me what you wanted to do to me.”

“Oh, lots of things.” Dennis reaches into Mac’s boxers and pulls out his cock, slowly stroking it as he shushes Mac’s moans, encouraging him to go on. “I wanted to touch you so bad, I—I wanted to pin you down and fuck you... until y-you screamed, wanted to know–“ his fingers push against Dennis’ mouth–“how your lips would feel around my, my cock, I wanted it, I–“

Dennis pushes Mac off, and then he’s crawling in between Mac’s legs, licking a long stripe up his member, eliciting painful reactions from the man. “Like this?”

“Just, just like that, yeah–“ he bites down hard on his arm–“Dennis _please_ –“

He sucks hard on the head of his cock, holding him down as he slowly slides his lips over, taking as much as he can before moving back up and then settling into a rhythm that has Mac cursing and begging and affirming just how goddamn fantastic Dennis is at this.

Mac comes into his mouth faster than he expected—and perhaps faster than Mac himself expected too—because it happens without warning and Dennis nearly chokes but he swallows as much of it as he can and then Mac’s pulling him forward and they’re kissing and Mac jerks him off, so good, so stupidly good, his hands are rough and he feels it desperately pumping his arousal, as if begging for Dennis to come too, and Mac gets what he wants because Dennis’ orgasm hits him like a punch to the gut and his head is rushing and they’re still kissing. His hands still run over Mac’s body and it’s a level of good like Dennis has never felt before.

And when Mac murmurs ‘ _i love you_ ’ into Dennis’ shoulder, he says it back.

 

* * *

 

When Dennis wakes up, he doesn’t feel bottom-heavy and needy, like he’s itching for release. In fact, he even feels... sated. Satisfied, somehow. He’s never felt this way waking up in a long time, but hey, weirder things have been felt and experienced by Dennis Reynolds. He hears Mac groan and stretch, yawning next to him and Dennis turns to look because this surely means Mac is awake now too—wait.

Mac isn’t wearing a shirt. Okay, never mind, nothing to worry about, maybe he got too hot during the night. Except when Dennis looks down he doesn’t have a shirt on either and he feels weird down there, like he’s not wearing anything and when he reaches—oh crap—he’s completely naked.

Okay, no panicking, no panicking, maybe it got really _really_ hot, after all, it’s always sunny in Philadelphia, and that can make the nights hot as shit sometimes. But Dennis has no recollection of taking his shirt off while he was awake, so what does this all mean?

He turns around and Mac is a bit closer to him than he usually is when they wake up, and then he’s leaning in and lips meet lips and—what?

Shocked beyond belief, Dennis shoves Mac away and the latter looks offended—but only for a second.

“Oh, right, morning breath. Sorry, dude–“

“What? Morning breath, no, this isn’t about morning breath! Why the hell did you kiss me?” Mac, who’s gotten up at this point and is somehow half-hard, looks confused. “And goddamn it, Mac, put some clothes on! Why are you naked?”

“Dude, do you not remember last night? At all?”

“What? We got back from the hospital and then we went to bed–“

“No no no, after that, when we woke up in the middle of the night–“

A lump forms in Dennis’ throat, and everything hits him at once.

“No–“

“Crap, really?”

“No, no no no no no–“ he’s freaking out now–“Mac, no, no—you mean—that wasn’t a dream?”

“What? A dream? Dude, how could that be a dream?” Dennis scrambles for his shirt, his clothes, starts getting dressed. “Hey, are you okay?”

“I’m fine,” Dennis lies, and then he’s fully dressed and clearly making a break for the exit.

“Dennis, where the hell are you going, dude? Dennis?”

The sounds drown out as he storms down the hallway. He has so many questions, and so many fears. He’s refusing to address how that was real, he can’t face up to the fact that he said and did the—nope, no, he’s not going to think about it.

This all has to be a lie, right? There’s no way that wasn’t a dream, because if it wasn’t a dream then that means Dennis had a dreamless sleep and, and. No. No, no. None of this is real. He’s not real, Mac’s not real. None of this is real, and if he keeps walking, it’ll all go away. It’ll all just go away and blend into nothingness and things will be back to normal, he’ll wake up in a world where nothing has changed and he... didn’t kiss Mac.

Oh god. This is it. He has to do something about all this. He has to make all of this go away, he has to fix everything so he can have it back, so that he can have himself back, he’d live with having sex dreams about Mac forever if it meant that whatever happened behind those closed doors would disappear.

 

* * *

 

“Guys, I have horrible news. Paddy’s got put on some list of unsafe places for women and... if we want to get taken off that list, we have to attend this stupid sexual harassment seminar.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> hjfskdjfh yeah so heres my official dance w canon... this chapter obv spans over before n after ep 2 n alludes to the events of ep 4!! turns out dennis found out how to stop the sex dreams, but its not the answer hes looking for!! this bitch in denial!!!!! what a dumb gay idiot!!! hope yall liked this chap its 7.1k words n im,,, its 6am as always pls do leave me a comment n kudos this fic!!! numbers make me happy and positive reinforcement is like money to me n the driving force behind my writing..... so yeah if u have any moments or scenes u like pls tell me n if u have a particular quote u liked pls tell me what it was as well if u hate me n want me dead in a ditch pls do tell!!!! anyway good bye im gonna go sleep now


	4. hold your head up

_11:53 PM_

_On a Friday_

_Manhattan, New York City_

 

“1969, baby!” Dennis proclaims, very conveniently declaring the year it is as he downs a glass of scotch, slamming it down on the bar right before Charlie does. They’re in a gay bar and recreational tavern, the only safe place for queers in Greenwich Village, where they live.

Why are they celebrating, you ask? Well, Charlie and Dennis (mostly Dennis) just saved up enough money to buy a bar of their own. They’re gonna run this place to the ground because their bar will be better and all the gays and what have you will go to their bar and _they_ will reign supreme. This is all he cares about right now, and nothing could get his mind off his impending success.

But then Dennis catches the eye of someone across the room and this man... he has the brownest eyes. His hair, beautifully coiffed, his smile to die for... and don’t even get Dennis started on his _body_. He wants to get railed all night long by this man, and the longer they maintain eye contact, the bigger this possibility grows, and then this perfect male specimen (paling only in comparison to Dennis himself, but he supposes they both have their merits) is walking across the room and hopping onto the stool next to him. Oh. Charlie’s walking off now, cool.

“Hey,” hot guy says as he gently sets his own drink—also a scotch—down on the bar. Dennis likes that he brought his drink along. “I’m Mac.”

“Dennis.” He takes a sip. “Reynolds. State your business.”

Mac raises his eyebrows at him, looking seconds away from laughing and leaving. Dennis has no idea why he said something like that, but whatever. If Mac doesn’t get it, he’s a savage and an idiot, an _ugly_ idiot who doesn’t deserve the time of day.

“My business? Well... I’m trying to get into your pants.”

Oh.

Dennis shifts in his seat, trying to look unfazed. “I see. Interesting.”

Mac smiles that smile he gets, it’s so light and gives away everything he’s thinking, and Dennis wonders, does he know? Does he know that his face gives the game away each time, no matter how beautifully he does it? But he throws out that thought, because Mac’s inching closer and leaning into Dennis’ ear and whispering–

“I wanna pin you down and fuck you so hard you can’t speak,” he mutters in a low growl. Then he moves away like he didn’t just send a rush down Dennis’ spine, didn’t just turn him on like no one else ever has before. “Sound good?”

His legs go numb. Can he even stand now? “Yeah,” he manages to say, thank god. “Yeah, that sounds good.”

They get up, leave without tipping, and it is _on_.

And it keeps going on. It’s the most mind-blowing sex that Dennis has ever had, and even though they don’t exchange any contact information, every night without fail they find each other at the gay tavern that’s safe for the gays, go back to either of their places and they touch each other like they’ve never been touched.

Some nights, they can’t wait until they’re behind closed doors and pressed against the mattress, or the wall, or the door, or the floor, or the—you get his drift. So one night they’re giggling and shushing each other and making out against a goddamn street lamp of all places, and they think they’re so sneaky, and they think they’re so quiet, and they think they’re alone. They think they’re not being watched.

“Stop right there!”

They don’t pull apart for a good five seconds until Dennis realizes what’s going on and he hits Mac on the arm so he pulls away but it’s too late. It’s too late and they’re in cuffs and behind bars and being written up for homosexual misconduct. How dare they gay around in the middle of the night. How dare they both be men and kiss! Dennis stomps around the cell in a fit of rage and Mac is worried, trying to calm him down and telling him not to make it worse and that’s the only thing that’s keeping him from yelling and cursing out the stupid cops. Fucking cops. Fucking useless, homophobic cops.

“Hey, what are these two in for?”

“Caught them–“ the officer who arrested them gags–“sucking lips outside Stonewall Inn. Disgusting scum, they are.”

“Aw, that’s it? Let them go, man.”

“Let them go? You nuts? They need to rot in there so they learn their lesson! We can’t have these fa–“

“Woah, woah, woah! You can’t say that!”

The cop looks confused. “What? Why not? It’s 1969, we can get away with it.”

“So? There’s a very dark history associated with that word!”

He crosses his legs and drapes them over his desk. “What history, man?”

The seemingly... _awake_ cop scratches the back of his head. “Uh... I’m not sure if I remember, or if what I heard was even accurate because I looked it up on the internet–“

“The internet?” Homophobic shitty cop leans forth. “The fuck is the internet?”

“Oh god. I... don’t know.”

Mac and Dennis look at each other, confused. What _is_ the internet?

“Anyway, uh. Confusing weird thing I said aside, we should just let them go. Don’t wanna have to do more paperwork, right?”

Just like that... Mac and Dennis walk free. They spend the night holding each other tighter than they ever have before. Raids start the very next night.

Maybe someone ratted out the tavern they met in, or the police just drew some conclusions based on sightings and arrests. Cops come by in large numbers, larger than they should, and people get taken away one by one, two by two. They get cursed at, called horrific slurs, spat at, manhandled, and a lot more terrible things that Dennis won’t mention, because none of those things happened to him, so it’s not important.

What’s important to note is that Mac and Dennis and a lot of their friends, people they know, Charlie, Dee, they’re all filled with anger and want to fight back.

“This is our bar. This is our safe haven. We built this tavern from the ground up! This is a place for us gays, us queers. We can’t let them take that away from us! Stonewall Inn is our home!”

They burst out in anger and charge against the cops during police raids, they start a riot, they start fights they mean to win.

When Mac and Dennis run out they do so hands held, fighting together. Fighting for each other. Mac lets go only because he spots a nearby brick, and Dennis lets go because he already knows what the man is thinking. As he’s known since the day they met, Mac’s face gives it all away.

The brick goes hurling through the air and hits a cop smack in the head. Dennis bursts out laughing.

“Mac, I think you just–“

 

* * *

 

“–THREW THE FIRST BRICK AT STONEWALL!”

Dennis’ throat is hoarse and his entire face goes red when he realizes what he just dreamt up, what he just woke up screaming. It’s all so embarrassing, and it’s times like these more than ever that he’s grateful he keeps the door locked, the walls soundproof. He’s having one of his stupid dreams again, and in case you’re wondering, no, Dennis doesn’t _just_ have sex dreams about Mac these days.

Every night now, when Dennis shuts his eyes and his mind drifts into the darkness... his subconscious becomes what is essentially a gay movie theater. And Dennis doesn’t know what’s worse, having sex dreams about Mac every night or falling in love with Mac in all sorts of ways and situations, in different time periods and different lives, sometimes having sex with Mac and sometimes not.

He can’t tell which is gayer: having sex with Mac or being in love with him? He hopes it’s the latter, because he kind of technically already did the first one. Except how gay is sucking dick? If every person who owned a penis could reach it with their mouth, who wouldn’t start sucking? Huh? So, was him sucking Mac’s dick _really_ that gay?

And besides, gay or not, it doesn’t count, because Dennis thought it was a dream, therefore he can’t be held accountable for his actions, because he was just acting like he usually would in dreams. So, still straight. Still a straight man.

These love dreams though... they’re something else. They do something else that’s just as horrible as the aftereffects of the sex dreams but... different.

It all started the night after they came back from the sexual harassment seminar. Which Dennis definitely did not organize solely for Mac’s benefit and to tie up loose ends between the two of them, no! He called the rest out too, not everything is about him and Mac. And Mac understands that, which is why things between them are completely cool and normal when they head back home. But then when Mac turns in he locks his bedroom door, something he never usually does, and Dennis can’t get in.

He supposes it would be hypocritical of him to say and demand all that of Mac only to still expect them to share a bed. And it’s not like Dennis _wants_ to share a bed with the guy. They only did it out of convenience anyway, because having Dennis sleep in his own bondage facility in a mattress he hates was just ludicrous.

But he has no choice now, so Dennis trades in the mattress for a better one he finds at the bed store (he goes there himself this time, and it’s a much more productive trip. Why he even considered bringing the gang along in the first place is beyond him), disconnects everything in his bondage facility set up and turns it all back into a bedroom. Because kinky sex is kinky sex, and while it is a pity that he never got to get with a chick in that beautifully constructed environment, sleep is more important than anything else.

Besides, who needs sex with women? He doubts anything will help him at this point, he figures the love dreams are a sign that it’s all getting worse. And can he talk about how weird the love dreams are for a second? Not the falling in love part, because that’s a given weird element, but the _beginning_ of these dreams. There’s always time stamps and... words detailing the day of the week? And the goddamn _location_? I mean, that’s just weird. That’s just really fucking weird, and did he mention dumb? That’s so fucking stupid, why would you start a dream like that? Or anything, for that matter. It’s so goddamn fucking stupid is what it is. _  
_

* * *

 

They drift. Mac really, true to Dennis’ words, stops touching him. The looks are still there, he still makes flattering comments, especially when Dennis baits him to do so. But they drift. Mac doesn’t touch Dennis, so Dennis doesn’t touch Mac. 

One day they’re all drinking in Paddy’s, there’s barely a soul around as usual and they’re all sipping beer and Dennis is behind the bar. Charlie and Dee are playing some stupid game together and Dee is gloating over how she keeps winning and Dennis doesn’t give two shits about it but he watches them with a fascination. How can they be friends so easily? How can they be friends in the same, unchanging way despite—what went down between them?

Last Dennis remembers, Frank got stressed over something and went into the bathroom, muttering about a flush and control and god knows what he’s on about this time. Mac is not here. Dennis wants him to be. He could text him, call him, easy, except he’d rather hang himself upside down than admit he needs to see Mac to feel safe.

After some indeterminable time Dennis spent in the bar without Mac (it’s 28 minutes), he comes in, but he doesn’t come in hot with news. In fact he... comes in kind of cold. _Cold_ with news, if that makes sense. It doesn’t, for the record, but it’s the truth.

“I think I need to come out to my dad.”

The words are heavy, and tense, like Mac is baring his soul just admitting this to his friends, like there’s so much more bubbling under the surface, like he’s burning, or drowning. Or waiting to drown. Like he’s lying at the bottom of a pit and watching as water falls in by the gallon.

“Cool...” Dee mumbles, not really listening, clearly still focused on the game. Charlie does not appear to have noticed Mac’s presence, and Dennis looks at Mac but doesn’t respond. He’s not sure what to make of this. He knows Mac hasn’t been going to see his dad in a few years, perhaps terrified his father would somehow be able to tell, which is a stupid rationale, because Dennis and everyone else who sees Mac can tell.

The reason why Luther doesn’t and hasn’t is because he simply doesn’t _care_. And Dennis has always seen that. He’s seen that in Luther’s letters, he’s seen how the man treats his son, he’s gotten angry, even. In fact... when Mac first came out and then subsequently chucked himself back into the closet, Dennis planted ideas in his head. That Luther would be disappointed to know if his son couldn’t have a thing for women.

Worked like a charm, Mac hasn’t so much as thought about paying his old man a visit in years, until now, apparently. Maybe Dennis really has been gone for too long. Maybe the distance between them has let Mac think for himself again, which is a bad thing, because Dennis knows this coming out to his dad plan, no matter how Mac hacks it, is going to fail. It’s going to go wrong, and Mac will crumble to pieces, worse off than how he began, and Dennis will have to put him back together, whip him into shape.

But he doesn’t say a word. Somehow he can’t bring himself to pretend he cares that much. And also... there’s a flicker of hope in Mac’s eyes right now that he’d feel too guilty for killing.

Mac and his thing about coming out to his dad goes on for several weeks ahead. It hasn’t stopped yet. He talks about some dance and some storm and other feelings that Dennis blocks out, or naturally doesn’t retain once he gets plastered enough, inhaled enough liquor. Mac gets real focused on the thing though, and a stream of women come trickling through the bar. Dennis can’t bring himself to hit on any one of them, not because doesn’t want to but... it feels wrong. Mac wants to do his dance thing, and if Dennis messed with that it wouldn’t be good for all of them. Mac would whine about it, probably.

Dennis gets real bored. Mac spends all his time either working on his dance thing that involves him shirtless, and sweaty, and occasionally grunting when he has to catch or spin his dance partner... or he’s locked in his room. Dennis can hear it all, he can tell Mac is riding his stupid dildo bike again, and it’s annoying because Dennis is trying to have a pleasant time in the living room on his own since Mac refuses to be good company, yet he can’t even have that in peace because Mac is so goddamn loud and it fills Dennis with this _tension_.

Also, it’s lonely. He’s lonely. Mac is almost always in the next room, but they used to spend so much time together side by side that when you take that out of the equation, it all falls apart. Dennis falls apart. He had no idea how much he relied on Mac for companionship. He had no idea how Mac was always enough for him, that he never needed much more, much less. They’re always with the gang too and he appreciates that and he knows he needs that, no matter how annoying all of them can be, but he needs Mac most of all. 

He starts thinking about all the things that were in his life before and why he feels so much more empty these days, and then he remembers his car. Right. He’d steered clear of that long enough now, he’s sure.

Where the hell is his Range Rover?

 

* * *

 

Jimmy Buffet’s voice lulls him into an almost happy trance. Almost content. Paradise, maybe. Or that could be the copious amount of alcohol he’s consumed in the last... forever. The last day or so feels like a whirlwind. It’s been frustrating, and then boring, and then terrifying, and then a relief.

But he’s dancing now. They’re all dancing now. Sure, the gang keeps singing songs Buffett had nothing to do with, whatever. He sings along, he hums along, he drinks.

He watches Mac. Mac, whose smiles shimmer like moonlight. Mac, who can calm him down from a bout of deadly anger, who can give him a heart attack in the next second. He knows that, on some level that exists several floors beneath his surface, that he loves being with Mac, loves the ridiculous rituals and traditions they make up to spend copious amounts of time together, and all he wants is for everything to stay the way they are, because change is scary and he doesn’t want to do that anymore, he doesn’t want things to change.

And that is all true, but what Dennis didn’t expect was to feel entirely broken by Mac refusing to come along, deliberately choosing to not be with him. Things turned out differently in the end especially since there was no way anyone would go to the concert without Mac and Dee but in that moment... he felt so weak. Don’t even get him started on Dee. He’s spent his whole life learning and re-learning that he needs his sister. They shared a womb, and she may be a fucking bitch at all times but they have... an understanding.

He’s known Mac for more than half his life but there’s always been something he didn’t understand. Not about Mac. He knows Mac like the curves of his own carefully kept torso. He knows Mac like a sun knows the planets that revolve around it, knows Mac like fire knows how to burn. What he doesn’t understand, is why, and when, he started needing this man the way mosquitoes need blood. The female ones, anyway (these are all such stupid fucking analogies, but who cares? Dennis is drunk, he doesn’t need to be a poet right now). At what point did his drug dealing friend from high school inadvertently become his life companion?

Whatever, shut up. He’s too drunk to answer these questions. He dances his way up to Mac and the man looks on curiously, but also remains reserved. “Let’s dance,” Dennis slurs, slinging his arms around Mac, and his eyes widen.

“Uh... okay.” It’s a slow song right now. It’s okay to do this. People are swaying along to the gentle tunes and Mac is so warm. But his movements are incredibly stiff, and he’s not even touching Dennis. Unbelievable. Dennis grabs Mac’s hands and guide them to his waist, and as the minutes go by Mac settles into a sort of rhythm and relaxes into their hold. Hips sway, Mac’s eyes move around like they’re too scared to stay still, and Dennis stares at him.

“Don’t ever say that again,” he says in a drunk slur, and the abruptness of it catches Mac’s attention, especially since he hasn’t so much as uttered a word.

“Say what?”

“That you won’t go. That you won’t come along with me.” He leans in and his lips are next to Mac’s ear. _“Can’t breathe... without you.”_

Mac is stunned. He stops dancing completely, and if Dennis were sober enough to comprehend anything, he’d understand, because he doesn’t get like this. He doesn’t get this soppy and needy, he doesn’t _say_ stuff like that to Mac, to _anyone_ , for that matter, not usually.

“Are you... okay?”

Dennis shakes his head. “Of course not. Haven’t been in a long time.”

Mac looks worried, his hands reaching for Dennis’ face, and he only realizes as his forehead and neck area gets pressed against that the idiot thinks he’s ill.

“Not sick, dumbass. Just feel shitty... a lot.”

“Dude, I know you’re close to blacking out but is there something you need to talk about?”

Dennis shakes his head and pulls closer to Mac. “Hold me. It feels better when you hold me.”

Mac doesn’t comply with his requests and it’s annoying, to say the least. “Dennis.” 

“What?” He fires back, voice snappy.

“Please stop. I can’t... I can’t do this.”

His turmoil is amusing to Dennis. “What’s wrong?” He slides his hands up Mac’s back now, and watches as the man shivers in want. “You don’t like me?”

He laughs because he knows otherwise, and Mac is being annoying. “You told me to stop touching you.”

Dennis hangs back a bit. Right. “Well, who do you want to listen to, Mac? Me now, or me of the past?"

“You said this was never going to happen.” Mac swallows, as if he never stopped thinking about those words that came barreling out his mouth that fine day. “Not _willingly_. And you’re drunk. What am I supposed to think?”

“We’re always _drunk_ , Mac,” he leans in, lips half an inch away from his own, and Mac goes still, shuts his eyes. Chuckling, Dennis plants a kiss on his cheek.

 

* * *

 

“Oh yeah! Fight Club! Fight Club! Fight Club! Fight Club!”

Mac chants, pumping his fist into the air as he bursts through the living room holding up their new popcorn bowl—they broke Dee’s and so they decided to get a new one for themselves—landing swiftly on the couch next to Dennis, who’s smiling as he logs onto Mandy’s Netflix account. He still has a profile on that, and he’s not about to let it go to waste. He wonders how they’re doing. Mandy. Brian Jr. He wires them money every month and they don’t speak. They’re cool though, Dennis is sure. If she hated him she would’ve changed the Netflix password, and him and Mac wouldn’t be able to watch an awesome movie for free.

It’s not Tuesday night, so no, they’re not watching Predator. Non-Tuesday nights are kind of an any movie goes sorta deal. Yesterday, which was also not a Tuesday night, they watched Die Hard. And man, it was awesome. Mac and Dennis are hanging out more now, ever since the Jimmy Buffett concert, and it’s pretty unclear why Mac is setting aside more time to be with Dennis, and suggesting more activities to do with Dennis, but he doesn’t question it. It’s good! Mac wanting to hang out and be a proper bro to Dennis again is just like old times, and it’s so great.

There’s a knock on the door right before he presses play. So obviously, he ignores it, and starts the movie. But the knocking continues, and eventually Mac decides to get up and investigate what the hell is going on, maybe smash some ass, rearrange some body parts. All weird ways to say he’ll beat up any unwanted company.

“That better not be Dee. She’s still pissed at us for buying a new big bowl and not getting her one.”

The door swings open and when Dennis sees who stands before it he eats his words and wishes it were Dee, barging in disrespectfully and whining about how they need to reimburse her and how they have no sense of responsibility, blah blah blah. God, she’s such a shrill whore. What a shrill whore she is.

Oh yeah. Just so you know, Rex is here. He’s standing there, something slung over his shoulder, pouring his heart out to Mac. Boo hoo, he’s an idiot who lost his apartment to Invigaron, boo hoo, he has no place of his own, boo hoo, he has a buddy whose roommate is moving out, boo hoo, it’s not gonna happen for a week, boo hoo, he needs to stay here for that exact duration–

Wait, what?

“Dennis, Rex can crash here for a week, right?”

“I–“

“See!” Mac deliberately interjects, because he’s an asshole who doesn’t think about Dennis. Dennis, who pays rent, Dennis, who never asks Mac to pay rent, Dennis, who lets him stay here rent free. Dennis, who doesn’t have the _audacity_ to bring in random people from the streets to live with them! “Of course it’s okay. You can stay here as long as you need too, man.”

Rex steps into the apartment like he owns it now, which fills Dennis with more disdain. He thinks he can take whatever he wants just because he kissed Mac, god, who does he think he is?

...a person who’s kissed Mac. Okay, whatever! Who hasn’t kissed Mac, anyway? It’s like getting a tetanus shot, honestly, because of how many people have done it.

They watch the movie, with Rex, so that pretty much ruins it for Dennis. Yeah, that guy ruined _Fight Club._ Who ruins Fight Club? Rex makes the popcorn (as if that makes up for his unwanted presence) and squeezes in right next to Mac. It’s ridiculous. Even Dennis isn’t sat that close to Mac. Even Dennis has never _intentionally_ sat that close to Mac. Sure, sometimes he sits near Mac and they inadvertently inch closer and closer as time passes! And then they’re pressed up against each other! It happens!

But not intentionally, never _intentionally_ , and clearly Rex, whatever he’s going for here, he’s being real intentional about it, Dennis can tell. Because Dennis is smart and observant and he’s not a fool like Mac. Mac, who doesn’t notice how Rex has his arm draped across the back of the couch, so close to him he’s practically got his arm around the guy. Mac, who doesn’t notice the warm look Rex gets when he laughs that sweet, genuine laugh of his. Mac, who doesn’t notice how he’s almost licking his lips when men get shirtless. And how his own feelings of attraction and arousal gets Rex shifting in his seat.

It’s completely ridiculous, actually. Rex doesn’t even look at the movie half the time. And yeah, Dennis isn’t blaming him for that because Mac’s body puts all the physiques on Fight Club to shame, which is saying something. But also, come on man! Have the common decency to hide and repress it as deep as you possibly can! Hell, don’t even acknowledge it or admit it to yourself! Is that so hard?

Fight Club lasts all of two hours and thirty one minutes, but to Dennis it feels like four hours and sixty two. Which is like, twice, and time slowing down that much is horrible, and to feel time slow down that much is agonizing. Rex is a monster.

It’s a good thing Mac and Dennis agreed to leave for Guigino’s straight after the movie, or they’d have to hang out with Rex the whole night, right? Thank god for monthly dinners, thank god that it’s a night just for the two of them.

“Oh, come on, Dennis! More the merrier, right?” His eyes are no longer on him, moving on to regard Rex. Dennis’ soul drifts out from his body, and leaves this mortal realm. “Rex, you look great, don’t even bother changing out of this. Definitely good enough for Guigino’s, man.”

 

* * *

 

Charlie and Dee are hours deep into Kitten Mitten Rush, fingers tapping endlessly at their phones, determined to remain the best in the game, and more importantly, trying to best each other, beat each other’s high scores.

“Yes, yes!” Dee shrieks in ecstasy as her head hits the back of the wall, dropping her phone on the floor in victory. “New high score. Take that, ya stupid bitch.”

“Stupid bitch? You’re calling _me_ a stupid bitch?” Charlie says, still deep in concentration as he plays on. Dee starts to be wary—the round she just finished started well before Charlie’s but he doesn’t show any signs of slowing down. “Hah!” He tosses his phone at her. “Read it and weep! Who’s the bitch now, Dee? But no, seriously man, read it for me.”

Dee’s heart jolts and then settles back down a bit when she sees Charlie’s scores, leaving the organ in a bit of a strange equilibrium. “You didn’t beat me, you idiot–“

“Aw man, really? I thought I did so good this time–“

“Okay fine, you beat me in Aggression points, which–“ she ignores Charlie’s taunts and presses on–“is nothing, because I beat you in Stealth points. And I collected more Kitten Mittens–“ he acknowledges this bit, prattles on about how it’s the ‘name of the game, name of the game, dude’–“but, then again, you did get more power boosts than me.”

“Oh god. That’s real messy, Dee.”

“You’re telling me.”

They sigh somewhat and huddle around their phones.

“Did you check the overall scores?”

Dee’s eyes widen. “Right. The overall score, I completely forgot–“

“Oh, damn it, Dee! We’ve been playing the game for weeks, you’re telling me you forgot about the _overall score_ section?!”

“Sorry, sorry–“ she clicks frantically to get their overall scores to calculate, only to deflate when it finishes–“oh goddamn it. We’re tied.”

“We’re tied?!”

“Yeah! What the hell, right?”

“Doesn’t this score thing have like, decimals and stuff? You were saying before about how weird it all was, and–“

“Yeah! We got the exact same score still, right to the very last decimal place.”

Charlie collapses on the floor, spread out in exhaustion. “Oh god. We have to play again, then, we have to settle the score–“

Dee, tired beyond belief, also looks like she’s about to crumble at the prospect of having to play yet again. She grabs her phone and tries to start a new game, though, no matter how shaky her hands are. “Oh crap.” She smiles, her lips also trembling. “Out of lives.”

“Damn it,” Charlie rolls over, already in a fetal position. “Guess we gotta play some ads and wait it out.”

“Already on it.”

They lie down on the floor and stare aimlessly at the ceiling.

“Dee, I hate this game.”

“Oh thank god, Charlie, I hate it so much too.”

“My head’s always hurting these days, and I haven’t huffed anything in ages. I think the game’s a drug, Dee. I think we got hooked real bad this time.”

Dee looks over at Charlie. “You think we should stop?”

At the same time, something snaps in them both and they’re charging up, yelling _no_ in unison, and they’re going crazy all over the room, energy bouncing off the walls, still waiting for the seemingly inexhaustible drone of the ads to die off, but they’re more determined now than ever to keep playing the game.

“We can’t ever give this game up, Dee!”

“You’re right, Charlie, you’re right! This game, it—it’s our everything! It’s all we have–“

“It’s all we have! Kitten Mitten Rush!”

“Kitten Mitten Rush!”

They continue to chant variations of the game as they make their way out of Dee’s room, specifically because they hear Frank getting back from the grocery store, and he gets into their intense rhythm as he moves about in the kitchen.

“You kids still playin’ that game?”

“Yeah! Whatcha cookin’, Frank?” Dee asks. If she weren’t so darn high on—what is it? Sleep deprivation? Game addiction? A combination of the two? Yeah, if she weren’t so messed up by that game, she’d be a lot more wary about what Frank might do to her kitchen but right now, she sure as hell doesn’t.

“Grilled Franks. Really cravin’ them today. You two want some? I got extra bacon and spam, loads of sausage to go around–“

“Oh, sounds disgusting. Count me in for at least two of those.”

“Yeah, me too, me too. Frank—any way you can get those gamer nerd guys you got working for you to remove the ads on Kitten Mitten Rush? It’s annoying as shit, dude.”

“I looked into it, Charlie, but without the ads, the game won’t make money, unless we make people pay to remove the ads–“

“What?!” Charlie shrieks. “You can’t—they can’t do that! It’s a free game, I’m not paying money for a free game–“

“Then you’re gonna have to deal with the ads and shit–“

“WHAT?! That’s insane, dude! The ads are _crazy_ long–“

“Guess you’re gonna have to pay then–“

“Are you kidding me? It’s a free–“

“Actually, I kind of like the ads,” Dee interjects wistfully as she lies on the couch. “They give me little breaks, force me to step away. It’s annoying at first, and then it’s a relief, and then... I start missing the game. So when the ads are all over I actually, I actually have so much more energy, and, and drive, to play the game with.”

Charlie doesn’t say anything, but sits down on the couch and looks like Dee’s just cleared it all up for him and he understands the sentiment she brings.

“Well, it doesn’t matter if ya like it or not. The game’s making me a crap load, from, from the ads and promo shit other games pay me to put in.” He chuckles lowly. “If you get any other great ideas, maybe I can get someone to upgrade your games... to the pro version. For free.”

Dee and Charlie sit up, immediately interested, joy swimming in their eyes. “The pro version?”

“The pro version. Don’t know what that is, but it’s definitely much more cool.”

“Oh, that sounds _good.”_

“That sounds _very_ good! Come on, Dee, we gotta think up of game names and shit–“

“Yes, yes, that’s right, we gotta, we gotta keep those fresh ideas coming through, get all the good game ideas we have and bring ‘em all to life–“

“Ooh! How about Invigaron?”

“Invigaron?” Dee scrunches her face up. “What about it?”

“The berries, man! You get to, to farm the berries and shit, and you’re a farmer, and you grow _berries_ –“

Dee creases her forehead as she watches Charlie’s enthusiastic hand gestures. “That’s cool and all, but also what would be so great about that?”

“It’s great because you don’t just grow the berries, dude! You like, harvest them, and you, you make ‘em into juice, and then you sell the juice, and it’s also a pyramid scheme!”

Okay, now he’s really lost Dee. Charlie definitely never really got over the Abani berries of the Invigaron scheme. Frank seems to love the idea though.

“Great work, Charlie, I’ll pitch it to nerd folk and they’ll get to work on it–“

“Okay okay okay—while Invigaron is an—acceptable choice for a new game, what about... what about literally anything else?”

“Fine. Whatever. Go ahead and crap on my amazing ideas. What ideas do _you_ have, Dee?” Charlie, seemingly high as ever on a mix of whatever Dee’s on plus an added layer of arrogance having been the person to come up with Kitten Mitten Rush (although let’s be real, all he pitched was a game that involved Kitten Mittens), crosses his arms and looks at Dee.

“We could... we could take something people used to love and make it into a mobile game so it’s like, modern, you know, bring up the nostalgia factor, or we could maybe make something that we love into a—oh! What about, what about Chardee MacDennis? What if we make that into an app, a game?”

Charlie looks at her like she’s crazy, and suddenly maybe the idea doesn’t seem that revolutionary after all. “Online Chardee MacDennis?! That’s _ridiculous_ , it would never work, Dee, are you–“

“Yeah, yeah, I thought about it for a few more seconds, you’re right, would never work–“

“So what now? Are we going with Charlie’s Invigaron thing?”

“I don’t know, Frank, I mean, _to me_ it’s a solid–“

Just then, Dee’s phone rings.

“Oh. Dennis is calling me.” She answers the phone. “What?”

“Get down to Guigino’s. Be there in 20 minutes, tops.”

“Guigino’s? Why the hell would I go to Guigino’s?”

Dennis stutters on his next indiscernible words. “Why? Because I asked you to come, because I’m your _brother_ , and when I say–“

“I’m hanging up–“

“Okay, fine fine fine–“ he takes a pause, sighs–“I’ll pay.”

She’s intrigued. “You’ll pay?”

“For dinner, I’ll pay for dinner.” Another pause. “Frank and Charlie with you?”

“Yeah, they’re at my place right now.”

“Oh, okay. Yeah. You know what, bring them along. They’ll really destroy anything else even remotely sexual about the ambience.”

He hangs up on her without saying goodbye, obviously doing it to prove some kind of point. Dee doesn’t even begin to think about or question what it is Dennis is up to or why he wants them there for it.

“What’d Dennis want?”

“We’re going to Guigino’s. Dennis is paying.”

Charlie, and Frank, a multi-millionaire, whoops and cheers at this notion.

“Thank god for that kid. I don’t think I even remember how to make a Grilled Frank.”

 

* * *

 

“Table for three, please–“ Mac says, trailed closely by Rex, who’s all smiles like some fool, looking all over the restaurant like he’s fascinated by it. The lowlife probably hasn’t stepped foot in here before. Yeah, Guigino’s is probably a step above his social status.

“Actually,” Dennis interrupts, when he sees the rest of the gang waltz in through the front door, “it’s a table for six.”

Mac and Rex turn around, surprised by this turn out. “Oh, you invited the gang?”

“Sure did.”

“Great, Great. More the merrier, right?”

Dennis is almost mad that Mac doesn’t care. They all get seated together somewhere in the middle of the restaurant, where there’s enough space for everyone, and waiters aren’t bumping into his chair every other minute, and the floor is weirdly even. Too even, if he must admit. Everything is perfect and yet, and yet...

Mac is sat directly across from Dennis and next to Rex, which Dennis supposes he couldn’t have prevented, so he decides its best that he’s sat where he is. He considered being next to Mac, but that would mean whatever Rex tried to pull during dinner wouldn’t be in his immediate vision and he wouldn’t be able to sneakily watch their every move.

He’s doing exactly that right now as he pretends to look at his menu, while everyone looks at theirs, ooh-ing and ah-ing at dishes they’ve seen on that menu hundreds of times already.

“Everything looks so good but... I don’t think I can afford most of this,” Rex, pathetically stuck in poverty, remarks with a slight frown at the menu, gaining a sympathetic look from Mac, which makes it more annoying than anything.

“Nah, don’t worry dude, just order anything you want,” Charlie replies as he scans the menu with a confused face, flipping back and forth as if he’ll find pictures, even though there are never pictures, and Charlie flipping back and forth like it’ll make pictures magically appears or manifest is so goddamn annoying. “Dennis is paying for everything.”

“Well–“

“Yeah,” Dee smirks, putting her menu down with a flourish. “It’s why we’re here, and it’s why I’m getting the most expensive ribeye steak on the menu. It’s probably the best one anyway–“

“Dee, can I see you for a second?”

They get up and convene at the bar, Dee’s composed and relaxed nature a contrast to Dennis’ brewing storm. “Hey. What the hell are you doing?”

“Uh, before you called me here? Just ordering dinner. Dinner you promised to pay for, _brother_.”

“I’m not made of money, you bitch. Order a fucking salad. Sip some water. Don’t be an asshole, please, can you please just—okay?”

Dee crosses her arms, not looking at all upset. Which is a bad sign. “Okay.” She walks off, and all Dennis can do is follow.

“What was that all about?” Charlie asks, seemingly in the middle of confirming with Frank what certain items of the menu are.

“Oh, nothing. Dennis here just wanted to let me and everyone know that he–“

“Dee, I swear to god–“

“He wants to know Rex better. Guys, when’s the last time we _all_ hung out with Rex?”

Rex looks at Dennis, giving him a grateful smile. God, how obsessed with himself can this man be?

“Uh... was the Super Bowl, right? When the Eagles won?”

“Yeah! Go Birds!”

“Go Birds!”

Dee nods. “Yes, Go Birds. Anyone remember anything else random that happened? Anything quirky and interesting? Oh—remember when Mac and Rex made out?”

Dennis tightens his fists. Oh, that bitch. That motherfucking bitch.

Mac blushes. “Guys, that was barely anything. We were just happy about the Eagles and there was that random, sudden KissCam.”

“Oh yes,” Dee props her face up with an elbow. “Fascinating. Do go on: how did that kiss make you feel? Did you enjoy–“

Dennis grabs onto a passing waiter and forces him to a grinding halt at their table. “She’ll take that stupid most expensive steak and—whatever these assholes are having. I’ll get the chicken salad.”

Dee sits back, so proud of herself, and all her stupid leverage. She’s swirling her glass of water like it’s fancy and not literal free tap water that the restaurant gives everyone.

“I think I’ll get the chicken salad too–“ Rex pipes up–“still looking to get back in shape. Invigaron really got to me,” he titters, rubbing his stomach.

“What? Dude, cut yourself some slack. You’re almost all the way back now,” Mac assures, and if Dennis were holding onto anything that wasn’t his own leg right now, he’d break it.

“Nah, I’m nowhere near where I wanna be, nowhere near your level, bro,” Rex praises. “I mean, look at you!”

“Ooh! You could work out with Mac! Yeah, you two can act all gay at the gym and girls’ll have to stop hitting on–“

“Charlie, can I see you over at the bar?”

Charlie’s more resistant to this idea than Dee had been, so Dennis has to half-drag him over.

“Can I get either of you two a drink?”

“What? No, go away.” Dennis glares at Charlie. “Dude. Stop.”

“Stop what?”

“Don’t go planting ideas into Mac’s head. Rex is already staying with us for a week, I don’t wanna have to deal with any gay gym sessions or whatever the hell it is you’re pitching–“

Charlie’s eyes widen. “Oh—he’s staying for a week? Okay, now I get it.”

“Now you get it?” Dennis is suspicious of this. “Get what?”

“Your–“ he gesticulates messily with his hand–“your whole, like, jealous gay bitch thing!”

Dennis looks aghast. “My jealous gay _what_ now?”

“Yeah! Mac and Rex are probably gonna be like, banging or whatever, and you’re–“

“What?! Mac and Rex are, they’re not, I repeat, they’re not gonna be—anything! God, that’s ridiculous Charlie!”

“Why not? They’re clearly like into each other or whatever, I don’t care–“

“Well it’s not gonna happen on _my_ watch–“

“Oh you’re gonna like barge into the room if they start kissing and stuff? Cool, cool, that’s–“

“Not doing that either! Charlie just—shut up about the gym and just shut up in general, actually, or you don’t get to order anything. You’ll get a salad–“ Charlie makes a face of disgust–“yes, exactly.”

“Fine, fine, I’ll keep quiet. But I want whatever big expensive steak you got Dee–“

“Yes, I’ll get you your stupid steak, oh my god, let’s just go, let’s go back–“

Everyone’s looking at them when they head back, obviously because they’re waiting on what Charlie’s getting. And so is their waiter, someone almost vaguely familiar but also completely unrecognizable at the same time.

“He’ll have the stupid big steak, same as her,” Dennis deflates, sitting down with a tired exhale.

Dee gives Charlie a nod. “Respect.”

“Ooh–“ Frank’s eyes widen–“that sounds good, I’m getting that too–“

“Fine, then you’re paying–“

Frank shrugs. “Sure,” and this is a win for Dennis, but Charlie and Dee still get their steaks plus they managed to completely rattle Dennis, so it’s not really a loss for them.

“Okay. Then change my chicken salad to that steak too. I’m not feeling chicken anymore.”

 

* * *

 

After dinner, which goes more or less okay after that without anything warranting a sidebar at the bar, they all head back to Paddy’s. Everyone drinks, everyone messes around, Dennis hops between watching Dee and Charlie play some stupid game he still doesn’t find intriguing in the least, talking to Frank about some stupid pyramid scheme game that he doesn’t understand, and playing pool with Mac and Rex. Then Dennis drives himself, Mac, and Rex back home. Home being Mac and Dennis’ apartment, of course, because Rex doesn’t live here. He’s crashing for a week, but that doesn’t make this place his home, Dennis hopes that this distinction is made clear. 

Rex mumbles something about being all tuckered out and falls fast asleep on their couch. Mac gets him a blanket and hops in the shower, Dennis does the same. When he’s done, he walks down to Mac’s room, and barges in quietly, so as to not wake Rex, because he’s so much more annoying and disruptive when awake. Mac’s on his phone, clearly playing whatever stupid game Dee and Charlie were, but he looks up when Dennis walks in.

“Oh hey. Just playing Kitten Mitten Rush. Dude, you should check this game out, it’s so fun.”

Dennis is unsure whether to stop Mac from playing, or take advantage of his compromised focus to bring this up.

“So when are we kicking Rex out?”

“What? Oh, a week dude, and don’t say kicking out, he’s our guest.”

“Oh, I wouldn’t say that. You see, crashing at a place for a week before moving into a new place and being a guest are two totally different things.”

Mac’s game... ends? And he gives Dennis a weird look. “Okay... and so? What’s your point?”

“He doesn’t have to do that here. Honestly, it’s not economical. He should be crashing with Dee. She’s living alone again anyway, since Frank moved back in with Charlie. She has extra space. We don’t. Plus, her couch is bigger.”

“Is it?”

“I don’t know, and I don’t care. Two’s company, three’s a crowd, and one’s pathetic, sad, and lonely. Let Rex move in with Dee for a few days.”

“But...” Mac shifts around in bed, clearly not a fan of this idea. “You sure Rex would be okay with that? Like, he doesn’t know Dee all that well–“

“They’ve slept together, Mac, that close enough for you?”

Mac bites his lip. “Right.”

“Why do you care anyway? If he’s staying here with us, or with–“

“He’s our friend, Dennis–“

“I barely _know_ the guy, we only see him every–“

“Fine,” he huffs, “then he’s _my_ friend, whatever.”

“Do you want to sleep with him?”

Mac raises his eyebrows, apparently not expecting that Dennis would bring this up so abruptly.

“Why do you care, Dennis?” He gets this peculiar glaze over his eyes.

“I, I don’t–“ he sputters–“I don’t care, I just—it’s a bad idea, is, is what it is. Don’t sleep with Rex, Mac.”

“Okay. Why?”

“Why what?”

“Why— _is it_ —such a bad idea?”

“Why? Why—he’s been sullied, for one, by Dee, she’s already had–“

“Don’t care.”

Dennis is taken aback. He’d never sleep with anything that Dee had her way with. But then again, gross as Dee can be, she’s not _Mac’s_ twin sister. “You—you don’t care.”

“Yeah. So what’s it to you, Dennis? Or are we done here?”

“I don’t like it. I don’t want it happening, in, in my house,” he smirks. Yes. He’s got it now. “Not with him, because I don’t like him.”

“Okay. Again—why?” Mac’s got his arms crossed, his forehead creased, and Dennis flustered. “You didn’t give two shits back when I brought girls home–“

“Well you didn’t really like those girls. And, I, I’m not sure I want to hear what happens when you do. Don’t wanna know. Not the biggest fan of possibly annoying, loud–“

“You sure?”

Dennis freezes. “What?”

“You sure you don’t know? How I sound when I’m fooling around with someone I like?"

Dennis gulps, because right here, right now, is Mac calling his bluff on that night. Because of course Dennis remembers. How could he forget? It all flashes past his mind now: the groans, the moans, the raw passion. It was the most desperate sex he’s ever had, and they didn’t even actually have sex. To have to confront this, to have to think about all this, to know that Mac hasn’t stopped thinking about it and how, right now, he’s basically signifying to Mac that he might...

His heart is pounding, and he’s speechless, and his fingers are wrapping around the doorknob.

“I–“

“Yeah, whatever. Just leave, Dennis. It’s what you do best, anyway.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> oh boy,,,,,,,,,, i hope you like this chapter as much as i did?? u just read 8.2k words of me being a little bitch. yes, i wrote the 1969 dream scene just because i wanted to make that stonewall joke and yes, it's highly inaccurate and not at all reflective of the events of the stonewall riots and the 1969-era in general because dennis is a huge idiot and his dreams are not accurate depictions of anything and also i wasn't from 1969 and won't even begin to assume to know how people were like or what went down back then. we stan making stuff dreams so you have creative license!! i do be a lazy bitch!! 
> 
> anyway yeah kitten mitten rush is a game that makes no sense and so would the Invigaron game. that being said, i want those two things to be games. i hope u all liked this chapter!! and that you liked the mostly dennis and mac free scene w dee charlie and frank!! what they got up to had like nothing to do w mac and dennis' jealous gay bitch drama but thats the gang tbh!!! they do their own shit and don't care about other important stuff that might be going on lmao 
> 
> and yeah!! dennis getting mad called out for running away from what he wants, he'll have to confront it very soon, and this is my way of saying next chapter is the last one lmao!! i kinda decided that and confirmed that i was only doing 5 chapters by the time mac finds his pride aired..... and yes im posting this on a day where iasip would be up on fxx if the season hadn't ended and i know it pales as a replacement but i do hope this helped fill the Hole a bit!! pls tell me what u think!!! ily bbs see u next chapter!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!


	5. keep your head up

_12:46 AM_

_On a Saturday_

_Philadelphia, PA_

 

This time, he curls up next to Mac on the bed when he confronts him. Seductive, charming, distracting. Mac is so attracted to Dennis, to this display.

“Dennis, I am so attracted to you, and this display,” Mac says as his fingers fly across the phone, his score on that stupid Kitten Mitten Rush game going up because of Dennis’ presence.

Wait a minute. He shouldn’t even care about that game now that Dennis is here. Rewind.

“Dennis–“ Mac starts off after putting his phone down, saving the game of course–“I am so attracted to you. And this display.”

Dennis hums in thought as he watches Mac. No. Too monotonous. Too lacking in passion. Goddamn it, even in his dreams and very specifically cultivated fantasy, Mac can’t do anything right. Rewind.

“Dennis,” Mac tosses his phone across the room, ignoring how it smashes to pieces against the wall, not bothering to even pause the game this time, sliding up close to Dennis, his breath hot against his neck. Yes, this is more like it. “I am so attracted to you, and this... and this display.”

He’s almost breathless, actually, he _is_ breathless. He’s panting in a very worrying manner that’s just not realistic or healthy, even for a dream, and honestly, Mac probably shouldn’t be this hot and heavy for Dennis in an obvious way just yet, no, he should be reasonably attracted to Dennis but still trying to act like he doesn’t care because he’s a sensitive little baby who can’t handle being rejected several times.

So, yeah. Rewind.

Mac is tapping away furiously at his game. “What do you _want_ , Dennis?”

Oh, ouch. No no no, that’s too mean, and his tone was so harsh, and he was being _very_ rude. Mac wouldn’t say that here, in fact, he didn’t say that in real time earlier (which we are not going to dwell on, no), so there’s no reason for Mac to be so cutting, really. Rewind.

“Hey Dennis,” Mac gives Dennis a quick heart-melting smile before looking back at his game. “What’s up?”

“When are we kicking Rex out?”

“Oh, never. I don’t like him or find him at all attractive, and he’s definitely not nearly as hot as you, not even close, but I want to keep him around so I can make you jealous, because I’m dumb enough to think that I can make you jealous when really, I’m just being annoying and Rex is just also very annoying–“

Wait. This is good, and it’s all true, but it’s too... what is it? Too introspective? Mac is being too self-aware, and Mac being self-aware in any sense is an oxymoron in a sentence. So, we gotta, we gotta back it up a little.

“When are we kicking Rex out?”

“Oh, next week. And don’t say that, Dennis, he’s our like guest and blah blah blah and my friend and blah blah blah–“

“You wanna sleep with him, huh?” Dennis bites on his lip. Even as a taunt, even in a dream, it hurts to say, but he presses on.

“Who, who says I want to?” Mac clears his throat awkwardly, avoiding eye contact. Yes, yes, this is the Mac he knows. The Mac he knows falters easily when confronted, he’s easily manipulated, and follows Dennis with a flick of the wrist.

“I know you don’t want to,” Dennis inches closer to Mac, fingers strategically carding through his hair. “I know you’d much rather sleep with me.”

Mac leans in and their lips meet, a sigh escaping from Dennis’ lips. All that tension he’s been holding all these months, all these years, all that anger, that frustration, it all melts away—wait. No no no, Dennis isn’t supposed to kiss Mac! He’s here to make a point god, these stupid dreams, they keep having a mind of their own.

Rewind, rewind. Like, major rewind.

“When are we kicking Rex out, Mac?”

“Why do you want him out of here?”

Dennis scoffs. “Is it not obvious? He’s annoying, I don’t like him–“ he recants, counting off his fingers–“and he _clearly_ wants to sleep with you–“

“And so? What’s it to you?”

Dennis rolls his eyes. “Oh come on, you can’t be serious. What now, you want to bang him too, is that it?”

“Why do you _care_ , Dennis?”

“I don’t,” Dennis smirks, he’s found it now, yes. Everything is back on track. He came into this room to remind Mac who he truly wants. And it’s not a subpar man like Rex. It’s not any other man, it’s definitely not one of those men that flirted with Mac some time or the other. Dennis knows, Dennis is powerful _because_ he knows, knows that Mac only wants him. Mac wants him bad, and he’s here to rub it in Mac’s face. Derail Mac, so that Mac will forget this silly Rex nonsense and focus on who he truly is into. Who he’s been attracted to for years, perhaps since the day they met. Dennis is going to get it right this time around, he is going to have the last word, the cool and not at all frantic exit, and best of all, the last laugh.

He leans in, inches away from Mac’s lips, teasing him. “Because I know I’d be so much better.”

Mac is silent now. Yes. That’s perfect. He got it. Great work team, except there’s no team and it’s all just Dennis. Great work, Dennis.

End dream.

 

* * *

 

A bunch of nerd looking people are setting up tech-looking stuff in the bar when Dennis walks in... is he here to start a shift? Is he just here to hang out and spend his day? He’s not sure anymore. But he’s at Paddy’s, and he’s a little later than everyone else because he slept in, but he’s here, and everyone looks oddly excited about the nerds and whatever they’re explaining.

“What’s going on?” he asks, warily approaching the bar and cracking open a beer.

“Oh, uh, hi. I’m from–“

“These are the IT bozos from Frank’s company. They made Kitten Mitten Rush and we’re gonna test out some games for free,” Dee rubs her hands together as she watches one of the nerds connect something to a funky looking phone that... something. Whatever, he doesn’t care. This is all inane and stupid. And a complete waste of time. “Come on, guy, be done already! I need myself some _Invigaron_ –“

“Invigaron?” Dennis inches over skeptically. “Didn’t Charlie only pitch that idea a few days ago?”

“Yeah, turns out my hires’ been working on some farming game of their own! It only took a few days to change up some of the, the graphics or whatever to berry crap, so we’re gonna play it and see what needs to be changed.”

“And I’m gonna be real on top of that crap, as like, the brains behind the Invigaron idea–“ he turns to one of the nerds–“you’re gonna be in good hands, guy. But like, I’m not gonna hold back, so prepare for some real harsh comments. ‘Cause this game needs to be a pyramid scheme as much as it is a berry farm, or that’s just betraying the–“

“Uh, yeah, we heard that from Mr Reynolds—how exactly—what exactly do you mean by a pyramid scheme? How, and why, do we make this game a farming simulator as well as what I’m assuming is also a... pyramid? scheme simulator? How would that work?”

“You mean like–“

“Uh–“

Dennis rolls his eyes. Of course these idiots didn’t think their preposterous game plan through.

“Well Dee, Dee’s actually—she’s the _real_ expert on pyramid schemes here—I’m just the big picture stuff guy–“

“Charlie–“ Dennis interrupts, because this is getting painful to watch–“knowing how to make a ‘pyramid scheme’ into a game is, big picture stuff. Also, Dee isn’t a pyramid scheme expert. She’s just an idiot who fell for one.”

“Says the guy who bought a timeshare,” reminds Frank, and the stupid IT imbeciles crack a laugh at this. Whatever. Dennis tries not to react and assures himself that they’re mostly laughing because Frank is their boss.

“Shut up, Frank.”

“Yeah, whatever,” interjects Dee. “And for your information, if I hadn’t bought out of Invigaron, I would’ve been making a ton of dough. So I didn’t fall for shit. I could be out of here by now, sipping a, a tequila sunrise, in my mansion–“ the gang snickers–“oh shut up. Anyway, screw the pyramid scheme crap. I was pretty much against making the Invigaron game in the first place, but I need a new game to play now since Kitten Mitten Rush is getting boring as shit.”

“Oh, really Dee?” Charlie simpers, his tone insinuating. “Are you _bored_ of Kitten Mitten Rush? Or are you just a _loser_ who can’t beat my high score?”

Dee lunges at Charlie and this nearly results in a brawl that Dennis has to physically step in to break up. How the gang survived even a day without him when he was in North Dakota is beyond what his mind can conjure.

“Stop, stop! God, this stupid—all these stupid games are driving you crazy–“

“It’s making me a shit ton of money though,” Frank reminds, and that’s enough for Dennis to take it down a notch, because clearly Frank being rich means all of them don’t have to work as hard.

“Well, it’s still—it’s still annoying as shit, and you’ve got Mac dragged down this disgusting pit of addiction with you. Guy won’t stop playing that game. Speaking of Mac, where the hell is he? He wasn’t at home when I left.”

“Oh, Mac and Rex left to go get lunch for everyone. They’re buying burgers and shit.”

Goddamn it. Now Mac and Rex are buying lunch together like they’re best friends and all that? And Rex is hanging out with them? What’s next? They’ll get married or something? Jesus fucking christ.

“Oh god, don’t tell him that! Now he’s gonna get all jealous and shit and freak out.”

“What?!” His voice goes up an octave. “I’m not jealous. I was never planning on nor will I ever _be_ jealous! Mac can buy lunch for us with whoever he wants. If anything, I’m pissed it’s taking them so long to get back.”

“You only showed up five minutes ago.”

“Shut up,” he grabs himself one of the phones, because since he’s here and everyone’s all focused on this crap and he’ll have nothing to do if he doesn’t join in, what gives? “Now are we gonna play this stupid farming game or what?”

 

* * *

 

The Invigaron game turns out to be oddly therapeutic. Obviously, the game’s not perfect, Dennis already has a lot of notes on how it can be improved, starting from how it’s so easy to add a pyramid scheme element to the game.

“Like I said,” he repeats, relaying this to one of the nerds who he’s noticed looking at him with some sort of interest this whole time. He’s definitely attracted to Dennis which is interesting because who wouldn’t be, but also he doesn’t care because he’s straight. “Just make up some suits with big money, get them to come to the farm and take away huge bulk orders of berry juice. Then make the corporate characters playable and have them in some, some sketchy polished building, where they’ll offer free golf clubs and recruit distributors.” He laughs at the guy’s confused face. “Isn’t that simple?”

“It’s doable, uh, I suppose.”

Dee waves her hand to get attention. Typical. “I think we should have like. Berry ice cream that we can make at the farm.”

“Berry ice cream???” Charlie looks scandalized at this notion, hopping off his seat in shock. “These berries are huge! You can’t freeze them—people will choke! People will _die_!”

It’s obvious that Charlie saw the illustrations of the berries in the game, compared their relative size to drawings of other things in the game such as trees and buildings, and thought that was the literal size of berries. At least in this game.

“Okay, calm down asshole—we can just mash the berries up–“

“Still, you’d need milk to make the ice cream,” Dennis reminds. “We don’t have milk at the berry farm.”

“Just add cows to the game.”

“Then it won’t be a berry farm anymore, it’ll be a lame berry and cow farm. And that’s just a mouthful, Dee, you cream-guzzling fool–“

“You’re a, a cream-guzzling _fool_ –“ she retorts futilely, then huffs–“fine, whatever, we’ll import milk from other farms, happy?”

The door opens and Mac and Rex’s chatter fills the bar, not that the bar had been lacking in chatter before, considering all the arguments they’ve been having over the game. The stupid Invigaron game, which Dennis wasn’t supposed to care about or get remotely invested in in the first place.

“Ooh, great. You guys are back,” Frank’s already somehow reached the boys and grabbed a burger and he’s chomping into it like he hasn’t been fed in weeks. But that’s how Frank eats most of the time, so Dennis ignores it. The way Frank moans into the burger is incredibly disgusting, though, so he tries to block it out somehow. “Man... this burger is the tits! Where’d you get it from?”

“Some place Rex found–“

“Ooh, Charlie–“ Dee lights up as she grabs her own burger–“maybe we should have burgers in the game too–“

Charlie gives her an incredulous look. “Like, like berry burgers and shit?” She nods her head readily. “Ooh, I like that.”

Dennis rolls his eyes and takes a bite of his burger. Dee and Charlie are both idiots, because how would a berry burger succeed in this cutthroat food industry? They’d have to remove that as a menu item in a week. Unless it somehow managed to appeal to the vegans. Or the vegetarians. Or both. Or whatever they’re calling themselves these days. He steps into the space between Mac and Rex and makes it look not deliberate.

“How about berry pancakes for the farm?” Dee suggests again. She really needs to shut up and eat her lunch before she chokes on her lukewarm takes.

“Also good,” Charlie agrees.

“And waffles! We could do berry waffles!”

“BERRY WAFFLES?! ARE YOU INSANE? Dee–“

 

* * *

 

Oh, did something happen? Yeah, Dennis kind of tuned out most of whatever was going on. Anyway, they’re pretty much done with lunch. Dennis’ strawberries and blueberries have finished growing and now he’s just waiting on his boysenberries. Mac’s started playing Invigaron, they’re already friends on the dumb game and they’ve traded a few items. They’ve also visited each other’s farms and have messaged each other. Yeah, there’s a messaging function on the thing. Right now, they’re planning some idea to infect Dee’s and Charlie’s crops with some kind of berry plague. Where they’re going to find one is unknown, but Dennis just told Mac in the messaging app that one of the nerd IT people has a thing for him and he’s sure he can flirt his way into getting them a berry pla—oh. Huh. Okay, suddenly Mac’s not into the berry plague idea anymore. Whatever, no big deal.

The bathroom door swings open and Dennis only glances up momentarily to see the eyesore of a man Rex padding over to them like the extra nobody he is. He looks over Dennis’ and Mac’s shoulders. Because of course he is. He’s an extra nobody.

“Hey, is there another uh, one of these game things? It looks fun, I wanna give it a go.”

Frank looks up from his gaming device. “Tough titties, Rex. My people only brought five.”

“Yes, one each for the proprietors of Paddy’s pub. Plus Dee and Charlie, who _work_ here,” Dennis emphasizes, in order to get his message across. Rex doesn’t belong here. He never has, and he never will. This bar only has space for the five of them, and he’ll never, ever, be part of their crew. Their gang.

“Oh, don’t worry, Rex, here–“ Mac hands over the phone to him like it’s nothing–“you can play with my account.”

“But Mac, we–“ Dennis is upset–“what about our plan?”

Frank looks at him funny. “What plan?”

Dennis glances over at Charlie and Dee to make a point to Mac, but this only ends up backfiring because it tips Dee off.

She gasps, jutting her finger out at them. “Oh my god! They were making a plan to wipe out our farms!”

“What?” Dennis scoffs. “Goddamn it, fine, we were. How the hell did you figure that one out?”

“Oh, we were planning on doing the same thing–“ Dee smacks Charlie in the arm–“ow! What the hell, you bitch!”

“Goddamn it, Charlie! They didn’t have to know that!”

“I’m sorry,” cuts in one of them, “but how exactly were you going to... so to say, wipe out each other’s farms?”

“Oh, with a berry plague, obviously,” remarks Dee.

Which prompts Mac to break out into this disbelieving smile and turn to her, saying, “that’s what we were thinking too!”

They high five, laugh about it, and then another person starts talking.

“Again, like she said, how would that work? There’s no... berry plague option in the game.”

“We know that–“ Dee sneers–“we were gonna make you put it in the game for us–“

“Dee was gonna flirt with the glasses dude to get it done–“

Mac laughs. “Dennis wanted to flirt with that guy too!”

“Because he’s clearly interested in me—I chose him based on that—and not anything else, obviously–“

Another one of the nerds, seemingly closest to the glasses nerd who seemed into Dennis earlier and not at all into Dee, chortles heartily at this. “Derek isn’t into either of you–“

Mac makes a confused face. “Who the hell is Derek?”

Glasses nerd, also known as Derek now apparently, raises his hand.

“Yeah, the one he’s into is–“

Derek goes red. “Mara, can you shut up? Be professional, oh my–“

All of them, with the exception of Dennis and, to a smaller degree, Dee—who’s still somewhat curious but less incensed since this dude not liking her must surely mean he’s into one of the dudes here, meaning he’s gay, or perhaps he’s bi, or (most realistically) just has the common sense to not be into Dee—perk up.

“Ooh, who is it, Derek? Who do you like? Or should I say... like-like?”

“Dee, that’s stupid.”

“Whatever. Spill it, D-man.”

Derek glares at Mara, who only bites her lip to suppress a laugh. “I’m going to kill you–“ he grits in a low whisper before addressing the rest of them–“look, not that I should have to say this in the first place, but it’s none of your business.”

“What, so, you’re not even going to tell us who you have a crush on?”

“God, Derek, quit being such a pussy–“

“Derek, as your boss, I am ordering you to–“

“Okay, fine, fine!” Derek cowers, looking away from them all. “Mara, just... tell them.”

Mara beams, looking happy for some reason, like she thinks that Derek would have an actual shot with whoever he’s crushing on in their group. She looks at Mac. “You, you’re Mac, right?”

Mac breaks out into a brilliant smile. “Yeah.”

“Oh, you wanna bang Mac?”

Dennis bites down so hard on his lip he tastes blood. Derek sighs into the ground. “God, you tell someone ‘hey, that guy’s cute’ and suddenly everyone thinks it’s a marriage proposal.”

“Well uh, I’m flattered, but you’re not my type, guy,” Mac says apologetically, but also coolly, like deliberately cool, Dennis can tell, he’s trying to look suave through all this, the idiot.

“Really? Wow,” Mara sucks in a breath. “I had you pegged as a twink kinda guy. Like, you know, thought you were into twinks and all that.”

“Nah, Mac’s into beefcakes, bro. Dudes like Rex. He likes it when guys are, are stacked with muscles and all that.”

Mac clicks his teeth and makes a disapproving sound. “Uh, actually... I think my type’s kinda somewhere in between?”

Dee rolls her eyes. “Of course, yeah,” she says, but Dennis doesn’t understand.

Charlie doesn’t seem to understand either. “What? But you used to make us oil up all those beefcakes and–“

“Dude, that was one time!”

Dee leans into Charlie’s ear and whispers something that has him relaxing in realization. “Ohhhhh, yeah, right, okay.”

Dennis wants to know what Dee told Charlie too, but then again, why should he care about what Mac’s type is and why his type is what it is?

 

* * *

 

“Can’t believe we’re at the gym again,” Dennis shakes his head as he squeezes his way up one of the immovable stools at the juice bar. 

“They got good juice!” Frank retorts as he sucks down some indiscernible mix of juice that Dennis is sure is chock-filled with sugar. “It’s good for you too.”

“Yeah Dennis,” Charlie scoffs as he tries drinking his juice with the same energy Frank had mustered, scowling because he’s clearly accidentally ordered something incredibly sour. “Not our fault you don’t care about your health.”

“What? You drank 16 bottles of beer yesterday–“

“ _You_ drank 16 bottles of beer yesterday–“

“I know, Charlie! We all had the same number of beers!”

Dee walks up to them with a huge glass, way bigger than either Frank or Charlie’s juices (Dennis hasn’t ordered yet), with three insane looking straws like none of them have seen at this juice bar. “If you were gonna be so whiny about it, why’d you tag along?”

“Oh, and run the bar all by myself? No thank you.”

“We were closing it for the day. You could’ve stayed home,” she reminds, raising her eyebrow.

“Well I—I didn’t know that! It’s too late anyway, I’m here, might as well get some juice–“

“I thought you were here to spy on Mac and Rex–“

“I’m not here to spy on Mac and Rex! If I were, why would I be here at the juice bar with you idiots instead of working out with them? Also Dee, where the hell did you get that juice? It’s huge and I, it’s actually _all_ I’ve been able to think about this whole time–“

“Yeah, me too–“

“I need one of my own–“

Dee takes a loving sip of her drink. “New juice bar on the other side of the gym. They’ve got bigger drinks, _better_ drinks—and honestly—way cooler straws.”

“Another juice bar? How big is this stupid gym?”

 

* * *

 

Eventually, Dennis gets tired of sitting down and listening to whatever inane chatter’s going on between his friends. He grabs his tall glass of juice and begins a slow stroll all around the gym. Maybe scope out some talent, see if he can land something today. He comes across two familiar faces exchanging a kiss.

“Woah,” he nearly chokes on his juice because he recognizes them, somehow. After a prolonged stare at the two men Dennis realizes they’re the two guys he nearly got into a fight with at the gym a while back.

They turn around when they realize they’re being stared at, and one of them jumps back in fear.

“Bob, run! It’s the internalized homophobia guy!”

“Oh no, not the internalized homophobia guy–“

“Woah, woah!” Dennis scoffs, trying to calm them down. “I am not—internalized homophobia guy?! I’m not even homophobic! My best friend is gay–“

“Oh right, your ‘best friend’–“

“Don’t—shut up. Don’t make it sound like that. He _is_ my best friend. He–“

“Yeah. Uh huh.”

“Yup, just your best friend.”

“Exactly,” Dennis says, teeth clenched. “He is just my best friend and nothing else. Now, what, what’s going on here? What’s with the kissing, I thought you were friends?”

One of them snorts. “I mean, clearly we figured out that’s not all we are.”

Dennis shakily gestures at one of them. “But, but you were, the jerking off thing, with that other guy?”

The, Bob, Dennis presumes, the guy who did not do the jerking off thing, looks a tad bit jealous. “Well, yeah, not that it’s your business, but Dylan whacked off with our friend Chase, and it has nothing to do with our feelings for each other. Besides, last we met, weren’t you campaigning for how jerking off with another dude isn’t gay?”

His next breath catches in his throat. “Right. Yes, that was, that was–“

“Or have you changed your mind and realized that it’s–“ Dylan smirks–“gay as hell?”

Before Dennis can begin to vehemently protest, he feels a tap on his back and comes face to face with Mac.

“Dennis, the exercise bike’s open,” he says, smiling. “You said to call you when it frees up, right?” 

“Hey,” says Bob, and Mac waves at him in confusion. “Are you this guy’s gay best friend?”

Mac breaks out into this wide grin. “Yeah! I am gay, and we are best friends.” He looks at Dennis. “You were talking about me?”

“Oh yeah, the guy’s in l–“

“OKAY! That—that’s enough of that now,” he grabs Mac’s wrist and begins dragging him away. “Let’s go ride that bike!”

 

* * *

 

Dee opens her door in confusion one—is it Friday? Saturday? Anyway, it’s bright out and she’s gaming with Charlie while Frank rediscovers making Grilled Franks after receiving a few pointers from Charlie. She opens the door to see a somewhat peeved Dennis standing next to Rex. And... Mac isn’t with them. Uh oh. Dee has a bad feeling about this.

“He’s yours now,” Dennis simply declares, like Rex is an object! That can just be tossed house to house, that can just be tossed to Dee’s apartment—which is the real injustice in all this.

“What?” Dee barely knows what to say, because her brother’s a goddamn psycho, is what he is, who the hell takes their house guest and dumps them at another place with no warning whatsoever? Dennis, that’s who, Dennis does crap like this. “What the hell–“

“Bye!” Dennis says, sharp and curt, fucking, walking off fast so he doesn’t have to deal with this situation anymore, like the self-serving bastard he is!

Dee knows it’s pointless to yell after Dennis by now. She only sighs, and lets Rex into the apartment for now, if only to obtain a story about the whole shazam. Charlie walks up from somewhere inside the apartment, confused and curious.

“What’s going on, man? I heard Dennis,” he scratches his head, probably because he hasn’t showered in—okay, Dee won’t judge—she hasn’t showered in ages either.

“ _Dennis_ ,” Dee takes in a deep, very deep breath after saying that poisonous name. God, he really is poison isn’t he? That fucker. “Just left. He dumped Rex here, so he’s our problem to deal with now.” She gives Rex an annoyed look. “Alright, beefcake, what’d you do? When, where, and how did you bang Mac? Dennis catch y’all in the act or something?” She catches herself. “No, no... if Mac was involved in this Dennis wouldn’t have gotten away so easily, Mac would’ve never—alright, Rex—what the hell happened with Dennis?”

“Yeah, Rex! Just save us the suspense and tell us already, god!”

Rex hastily apologizes, clearing up any rumors about him and Mac having sexual relations.

“Wait. You didn’t have sex with Mac?”

“Aw, poor guy. Thought he was finally getting some, y’know?” Charlie shakes his head. “Like, let the man fuck, right?”

“Yeah, yeah, let the man fuck and all that—Rex. If you didn’t bang Mac, then, then what’s up? Why was Dennis all riled up?”

“Did you at least _blow_ Mac, dude?”

Rex shakes his head. “No, not yet. I mean, I like Mac, and I keep trying to hint that, but Mac’s not taking any of my hints or like,” he purses his lips briefly, “leaning in when i pull close and stuff.”

“Oh. Mac’s fucking dumb as shit, bro, you gotta be way more obvious than that.”

Rex raises his eyebrows. “Really? But, can’t you all tell I have feelings for Mac?”

“Of course we can all tell,” Dee scoffs, laughing, just like Charlie, who is also laughing. “We’re smart, and intuitive, and–“

“Well, some of us are smarter than others–“

If Charlie’s trying to imply he’s smarter than Dee because he keeps outsmarting her on Kitten Mitten Rush (yeah, there’s a multiplayer option now so they can challenge each other and stuff), she’ll sock him in the face.

“Yeah,” she grits her teeth. “ _Some_ of us,” she emphasizes, clearly referring to herself, “more than others.”

They exchange a glare, and then the moment drops. Charlie turns back to look at Rex. They can settle their scores later. “You gotta be super super obvious. Like, jealous obvious, man. Like Dennis—the guy’s clearly in love with Mac—and how do we know this? He gets jealous several times a day, he–“

Rex chokes on his next words. “Oh, oh my god. He is?”

Charlie and Dee exchange weirded out looks. “Dude. Duh. I mean, I _mean_ —you didn’t see through all that man? Never saw him freak out when some dude tried flirting with Mac and shit?”

“No, not really. I mean, to be fair, I don’t really look at Dennis much.”

“Right, you’re busy, uh, gay-staring at Mac and all that. And... you’ve only been here a week.”

Rex nods. “Yeah! I’m moving into my new place tomorrow.”

“Wait, tomorrow?” Dee sighs. “Then what the hell was Dennis being so dramatic for?”

Rex looks down sheepishly. “Well, to be fair, I did talk about Mac with him. I talked about my feelings and all that and I asked Dennis for... advice on how to get with Mac. Like, if he knew how to get the message across and if he had any tips on how to get Mac on a date with me for real.”

Charlie’s mouth falls open. So does Dee’s. “Oh shit, dude. You’re lucky he didn’t murder you and leave you in a ditch.”

Dee nods in agreement. “Yeah.”

“So...” Rex swallows, scared and uncomfortable. “I shouldn’t ask Mac out? I should give up, right, since Dennis–“

“What? Hell no, dude!”

“Yeah, no one’s saying you can’t ask out Mac. Honestly, you dating him would be good for the guy.”

“Yeah, dude’s got sexual frustration for miles. It’s getting annoying for everyone that has to see it.”

“Dennis won’t admit he feels anything for Mac even if you put a knife to his throat. So, seriously, just ask Mac out. Point blank. We can help you out with that, I guess. Like rehearse scenarios–“

“Or–“ Charlie lifts his phone up with a cheeky grin–“we could all play some Kitten Mitten Rush.”

“Yes! That! That’s way better–“

Frank walks in with two large bowls of... many Grilled Franks. He appears to not have heard any of the commotion at Dee’s door earlier, which doesn’t surprise her. He apparently, gets really focused when he makes Grilled Franks. And let’s be real, his hearing is shit.

“Who wants a Grilled Frank? Served nice and hot!”

Sometimes Dee wonders how much better a father Frank would’ve been, how less screwed up she and Dennis would’ve turned out, if the Frank of right now could’ve been the Frank of thirty years ago. Sometimes he does things that surprises her, but she can never quite scrub the feeling that he’s coming in too late with it. Thirty years too late.

But whatever! Who says no to (what she hopes is) good food?

“Oh, yes,” she grabs one of the bowls from him and sets it down on the floor. “You wanna play Kitten Mitten Rush? You can be on Rex’s team.”

 

* * *

 

_2:30 PM_

_On a Tuesday_

_Philadelphia, PA_

 

Dennis jerks awake from the most confusing dream and has to take a few minutes to process it all. Software updates, North Dakota, reminiscing, memories being rewritten.

The thought of Mac holding his hand and running away to North Dakota with him is so comforting it scares him. The thought that the gang barely remembers nor cares that he left... it is equal parts ridiculous as it is completely believable.

He holds on tight to the thought, the knowledge of Mac loving him. Yes, Mac loves him, and that’s the only sure thing he can depend on in the world. Reality is reality when Mac loves him with an undying devotion.

Any second apart from the man is a breath he’s not willing to take. He feels Mac’s absence like a knife to the gut and he has to plug up the wound with Mac to feel better. Where is Mac?

He hears familiar sounds of the shower and knows Mac is in there. He also knows that Mac doesn’t lock the door to the bathroom when he bathes. And Dennis wants to see Mac now, clothes on or off.

If he’s being honest, he prefers the clothes off.

He pushes the door open and sees Mac turn around in shock from the corner of his eye. He’s not jerking off in the shower right now, soaping up his torso instead, and Dennis can’t tell if that’s a disappointment or not.

“Dennis?”

Mac watches him with bewildered eyes and Dennis shuts the door, feeling the steam of the shower and the heat of the moment hit him in equal measures. Unblinking, Dennis peels his shirt off, drops his jeans to the ground, taking his underwear off in the same movement, of course.

He sees Mac, his eyes raking his body, up, then down, then eye contact. Mac takes a small lick of his lips. Oh that mouth. Dennis could kiss it for days.

When he steps into the shower, he presses Mac against the ceramic wall, actually, he pushes, he practically shoves Mac against the wall and whatever pain Mac feels at this... Dennis can tell he likes it. He likes it too, likes inflicting it on Mac, wants Mac to hurt him so bad he’s ruined for anyone else.

They kiss, and suddenly everything is okay. Dennis is loved, Dennis is safe, Dennis can be happy. He tastes all this on Mac’s lips and his tongue tells him more, tells him it’s going to wrap around Dennis’ cock and make him feel so good.

But not now. Dennis wraps his fingers around Mac’s cock, that impressive length he finds oddly mesmerizing given how it’s basically a shaft he just wants, oh, several inches up his ass.

Mac exhales, incredibly tense, his head tilts to the left and he pulls away from the kiss. He’s biting his lip so hard then lets go, says, “Dennis, _please_ ,” begging, not sure what for exactly, but clearly he has needed this. His hands are on either side of Dennis’ waist, and he holds on tight, maybe as another coping mechanism for the pleasure, maybe to keep Dennis there, maybe to say _please don’t go._

The spray of their shower washes Mac clean, and Dennis watches with rapt attention as the bubbles either vanish or slide down his body, but inevitably, they all disappear and become nothingness. Dennis both wants to join them and wants to stay here, slowly pumping and torturing Mac, be the reason why Mac needs so much. Everything he could’ve possibly wanted from Dennis, he’ll give them to him now.

He watches Mac writhe, he watches Mac squirm, he imagines Mac tied up and unable to move, he imagines Mac being denied pleasure and crying out for it, begging for it harder than he’s ever begged for anything. Harder than he’s ever begged god for anything.

His hand stops moving, and Mac, so far gone by now, wraps his hand around Dennis and pumps his erection himself. But he needs it to be Dennis’ hand, he needs it to be Dennis touching him to feel good, feel better, because his touch could never be enough, his own touch could never feel as good.

It is that very thought that breaks the silence.

“Why didn’t you stop me?”

Mac’s eyes flick open. “Huh?”

Dennis starts stroking Mac again, jerking him so fast with such a good rhythm that Mac comes hard and fast all over his stomach. Taking advantage of his state, not giving a gasping Mac any time to recover, he presses into him harder, leans in closer and asks again.

“Why didn’t you stop me?” The biggest, most drastic decision of his life, that he can’t decide if it was a mistake or not, flashes past him, and somehow it barely meant a thing. Being there, all those months, it makes him feel nothing in this moment. “From leaving? From going to North Dakota?”

Mac kisses him deep and distracting, then he pulls away and looks at Dennis with no joy in his eyes.

“Would you have stayed if I tried?”

 

* * *

 

Dennis almost groans when he wakes up for real this time. He slowly takes a few moments to recap and think about what he’s done today, what’s been real and what hasn’t been. He brought Rex to Dee’s place, and then he left to take a nap at home. Okay. Yes. All that was real. He desperately tries to forget everything that wasn’t.

Trudging out to the living room, he sits there and stews in his own nothingness until he hears the door click open and Mac barrels in like he always does and he’s a lot more drenched than Dennis would’ve expected but oh. Right. He was at his dance practice thing and it involves rain or whatever.

Mac barely gives Dennis a smile before he heads for the shower and the sound of water hitting ground makes Dennis uneasy because of his dream. Or dreams. He’s had many dreams involving him, Mac, and a hot, steamy shower. As usual, he represses any urge he has to join Mac in the bathroom, leftover urges he’s retained from his subconscious.

It seems these days he spends a lot of time trying to forget things that never even happened.

“Where’s Rex?”

Oh. Mac is out the shower now, and he’s looking around the apartment inquisitively like Rex will pop out from his hiding place and yell out surprise! if he looks hard enough.

“At Dee’s.”

“Why’s he at Dee’s?”

Dennis doesn’t say.

“Dennis,” Mac emphasizes, he can be so annoying, “why. Is he there?”

“Because I took him there.”

“Why would he want to be at Dee’s?”

He knows. Somehow, Mac knows what Dennis has done, and he knows why he’s done it, and he’s only playing dumb to force Dennis to say it. Dennis is not going to give him that satisfaction.

“You know why.”

“You kicked him out?” He says this not as a question but as an accusation. Dennis’ eyebrow raise is all it takes to push Mac over the edge. “You gotta be kidding me. I can’t have one house guest without you butting in and tossing him out!”

“He was, he was being annoying!”

“Not to me he wasn’t! Why did you have to kick him out? He was moving tomorrow anyway–“ then he stops, because of course he knows Dennis did it to make a point–“you know what? I can’t take this. I can’t stand you, everything you do is either confusing or a pain in my ass.”

He lets Mac be angry, because that’s what Mac does best, he gets angry, he yells, they yell, sometimes stuff gets thrown around and broken, and then it’s okay and Dennis is forgiven. Or Mac stops caring enough about what he did to be mad, so Dennis doesn’t need forgiveness. But then Mac starts grabbing his stuff and maybe this isn’t like the past, he sees his phone in his hand and he very clearly seems intent on–

“Where do you think you’re going, Mac?”

Mac turns around in a huff, like it’s obvious. “I’m going to Dee’s. Where my _real_ friends are–“

He’s halfway across the room to the door when Dennis catches up with him, grabs him by the arm. “No.”

“The hell do you mean, no? You’re not stopping me, Dennis! Because you don’t care about me, you only care about you! Dennis only cares about _Dennis_. And I don’t have time for that!”

Dennis fills up with hurt and pain and fear, and suddenly the scariest thing in the world is Mac walking out that door, and he falls back into instinct and urge, losing logic and common sense.

He just needs Mac to stay.

Lips press against Mac’s own rather forcefully, and Dennis kisses Mac like his very life is on the line. Mac can’t leave. He kisses Mac like it’s the only thing he knows how to do and backs him up against the wall. Mac can’t leave. Mac moans against his lips and slides his arms around Dennis and holds him tight and Dennis feels better than he has his whole life. Mac won’t leave. He rubs against Mac’s crotch with his own and feels Mac harden against him. He feels giddy, in the best way imaginable. Mac won’t leave.

He knows it’s bad of him to stoop this low, to kiss Mac because it’s the only way he’ll stay. He knows it’s dark, very dark, and very stupid, the things he’s about to do, the lengths he’s about to take to keep Mac by his side. All his. Not for anyone else. It’s horrible that he’s kissing Mac, it’s horrible that he’s about to have sex with Mac, because he knows he’s doing it for the wrong reasons.

There would never be a right reason to sleep with Mac, anyway. No right reason for a straight man.

Mac pulls away, and he looks at Dennis like he trusts him. He shouldn’t, but Dennis lets him. “You for real this time?”

Dennis drops to his knees.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> guess who lied!!!
> 
> so yeah the original ch5 got long and i realized it would be more economical to write half of it then post then like... write the second half next week (when my exams are over) so!! here u go bbs i hope u like as usual kudos comment tell me what u think etc etc


	6. movin' on

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> quick psa! i think i got a comment theorizing that dennis planning to fuck mac was a dream, and would like to remind everyone that ever since dennis started having "love dreams" in addition to sex dreams, all his dreams now start with the weird time day and location stamps like w iasip episodes. just a heads up in case u didn't notice!

“Hey, Rex, where do you want this spatula to go?” 

“Uh, I guess in the kitchen with the other kitchen stuff? I didn’t know I _had_ a spatula,” Rex chuckles, scratching his head as he tries to open a box of his clothes.

Rex’s friend and new roommate is out of town, giving them plenty of time and opportunity to unpack all of Rex’s stuff and officially move him into this apartment (and out of Mac and Dennis’ or Dee’s).

Why is the gang helping Rex move in, you ask? Well, apparently, he completely annihilated Dee, Charlie, and Frank in a high stakes Kitten Mitten Rush battle and as per whatever bets they made, all three of them now have to help the guy out with moving in. And somehow Mac and Dennis got roped in. Which, well, Dennis didn’t fight, because the sooner they get Rex out of their house and not anywhere near it for good, the better. Also, the dude’s paying them five bucks each. It’s easy money they can’t come by elsewhere.

Dennis absentmindedly cuts open a box, taking his time with it because this isn’t his job _(even if it were, he would still only do the work_ _t_ _hat five measly American dollars are worth, thank you very much, easy money is easy money, but it’s still five pathetic fucking bucks, and if Rex wanted him to work more efficiently he’d get a job and actually make some money)_ and he wants to do as little as possible to help. Behind him, Charlie’s cutting open a box of his own with a much better speed.

“Woah!” Charlie’s excitement grabs everyone’s attention, and it appears he’s uncovered an Indiana Jones costume. “Rex, dude! This is awesome!” He puts on the hat and randomly flicks his wrist with the whip in hand. The proceeding sound has some yelping and some standing back in horror.

“Oh, that’s a good whip,” remarks Frank, making a beeline for it. “Got real torque to it. Let me have a go, Charlie.”

Charlie puts on the jacket while Frank goes to town on the whip, cracking it and maniacally cackling as he scares the rest with it. Charlie’s one or two poses in the get up has Mac telling him “dude, you look dope!” before insisting he get to try Rex’s top quality Indiana Jones outfit. It’s ridiculous for Dennis to see them all be so fascinated by Rex’s Indiana Jones crap when they literally have a very similar costume and whip. But he supposes their own get up is of a much simpler looking and less elegant quality. They bought it at a thrift store after all.

 

_“Oh dude, Dennis—yes—that... that feels so–“ his next breath is empty as he shuts his eyes, fingers tugging on Dennis’ hair. Weirdly, Dennis likes the pain, it spurs him on, makes him tighten his lips around Mac to elicit an even needier response. He loves the pain, actually, and it’s why he’s not berating Mac for potentially messing his perfectly styled hair up. That, and the fact that his mouth is so full of cock he couldn’t yell even if he wanted to._

_The top tier blowjob he gives Mac has two momentums—one is the way Dennis moves his head, his mouth pulling dick in and out and then in his mouth again—the other one is provided by Mac, who’s trying his best not to thrust into Dennis’ mouth but is still kinda doing it anyway._

_After almost choking, Dennis pulls out to take a break and he looks up at Mac, who’s panting a little and looking back down at him. “You... you look so good like this.”_

_Dennis wipes off spit from the corner of his mouth. “You mean with your penis in my mouth?”_

_“Yeah. You take that cock like a champ, man.” Just to keep things interesting, and by things he mean’s Mac’s dick, and by interesting he means hard, Dennis starts stroking him slowly as he talks, giving his mouth a break as he lets Mac run his. “Mm, I, I’ve been thinking about it for weeks.”_

_Dennis swirls his tongue around the head of Mac’s erection. “You mean this? Been thinking ‘bout this for weeks, baby?”_

_Mac bites down hard on his lips at ‘baby’. He hasn’t heard it for a long time and something real and visceral rips through him just by hearing it again. “This, and a bunch of stuff.”_

_Quirking a smile, Dennis gets up, his hand never leaving, never abandoning its grip on his cock, a metaphor for how he’ll never let the man go, how he’ll keep him by his side forever._

_“Know what I’ve been thinking for weeks, Mac?”_

_Mac shakes his head, but the look on his face—it already knows he’s going to like whatever Dennis has been thinking. Dennis leans in hot against his ear._

_“Take me into our room and fuck me.”_

 

“Oh, I wore that last Halloween,” Rex chortles his way into the room, and now Mac is trying on the Indiana Jones get up. “Just so you know, that outfit looks best when you wear it shirtless.”

Mac looks psyched to hear this and Charlie groans “aw man, don’t tell me you’re gonna–“ Mac whips off his shirt and Charlie goes–“unbelievable man, unbelievable! This is the second time today you’re popping your shirt off–“ walking away because he doesn’t need to see any more of this.

“More like second time in the last hour,” Dee remarks, and it cracks a laugh out of Charlie so he returns her high five as he walks out the room.

“But Rex said the outfit looks best shirtless!”

Dennis would hate to agree with Rex, but the man is right.

“Yeah, if you’re gay as shit dude, which, like, you are, and he kinda is, so, whatever, doesn’t mean I gotta stick around for it,” Charlie rambles on as he digs through a box of stuff.

“Well, I don’t agree with him at all,” says Rex, openly admiring Mac in the shirtless Indiana Jones look. “You’d totally win a Halloween costume party looking like that, bro.”

“You think so?”

“Buddy, I _know_ so.”

“Aw, man, we should have a Halloween costume party!”

Frank perks up when Mac says this. “You mean a Halloween costume contest? Like a Halloween costume contest _scheme?”_

Mac nods and points at Frank in excitement. “Yes, yes Frank!”

“We could charge everyone a fee to get into the contest,” Dennis suggests, because as spontaneous and random as Mac’s idea was, there really is something to this Halloween scheme he could work with. “And then have Mac win regardless. People would buy into it.”

Mac breaks out into this huge smile. “Dude. Yes. Can I take off my shirt?”

“Buddy, I don’t think people would believe you won _unless_ you took off your shirt.”

Mac whoops and cheers. “Yes! Man, I can’t wait for Halloween. Gonna look so good–“

 

_Their bed, of course, means the bed that they used to share all those weeks, currently known to the rest of the world as Mac’s bed, but to him, to them right now, it’s theirs. All theirs._

_Mac has Dennis pressed into the mattress and he kisses at the expanse of skin he slowly unveils as he undoes button after button. “You look so good,” he moans against his collarbone._

_His cheeks flush but he still rolls his eyes at Mac. “You said that earlier.”_

_“Still true.”_

_Dennis supposes he has to give Mac that. He leans up and pulls Mac by the shirt into another kiss. He kisses deep, he kisses slow, he takes his time, savors every smack of their lips. Then it gets fast and sloppy, and the faster they go the more impatient Dennis gets. Insistently, he creates whatever friction he can find, then gives up and attacks Mac’s jeans._

_“Dennis,” his plea is muffled, teeth biting harshly on his shoulder, “slow down, I won’t last.”_

_Dennis makes a disgruntled sound to Mac’s amusement. “God, you’re like a teenager,” but he relents. “Hurry up and fuck me.”_

“–you won’t believe what costume I have prepared for this Halloween,” Rex brags. Whatever, you know? We all have great Halloween costume ideas that we all would like to brag about, but some of us have the common courtesy not to! Apparently, Rex doesn’t, and apparently, Mac doesn’t seem to care.

“Oh really?” He chuckles. “You gonna give me a run for my money?” referring to Mac winning the Halloween costume contest scheme that doesn’t technically exist yet.

“Oh crap!” Dee’s voice, excited sounding, pops up from the other room. Since this entire situation is exhausting him, he decides to humor her for once. “Guys, look what I found!”

Dennis hurries to the other room in an effort to make the other guys feel like they’re losing out so they follow him. Charlie’s already next to Dee, and he’s squinting at words he clearly has no idea how to read on a box Dee holds in her hands.

“What is it?”

“Rex, you never told us you had Twister!”

Dennis nearly rolls his eyes, almost regretting coming into the room. “You called us all in here for a stupid game of Twister?”

“Aw man!” Charlie’s eyes light up now, no longer in confusion. “Twister’s awesome, dude! I almost didn’t recognize it–“he looks at Dee–“did they change the box or something? It looks different from how I remember it–“

“Of course they changed the box design, Charlie, the damn game was invented over fifty years ago–“

“Alright, alright, you don’t gotta be such a bitch about it–“ Charlie opens up the box and Rex starts helping him with setting up the mat.

“I play this game with friends a lot–“ Rex boasts, because oh, _look at me_ , I’m a person with _friends_ –“it’s great at parties.”

“Oh yeah, bro, it totally is.” Mac turns to look at the rest. “Remember how we all used to play this when we were kids?”

“Haha, yeah!” Charlie claps his hands together as if recalling the memories. “Actually no, man. I don’t remember a thing. How the hell do you play Twister again?”

“Goddamn it, Charlie. You forgot how to play Twister? Who the hell forgets how to play Twister?”

“Even I remember,” says Frank. “Wait, never mind, I don’t either. What the hell is this game?”

“Oh god, you hopeless idiots,” Dee curses under her breath. “It doesn’t matter anyway, regular Twister sucks. It’s the drinking game that’s fun.”

Everyone lights up.

“Oh crap, there’s a drinking game?” Mac gets up. “I’ll go fetch the beers.”

 

_Is it possible to be drunk on cock? Or perhaps, drunk on the feeling of Mac thrusting in and out, downright fucking the sense out of him. When he comes, it’s eyes shut and back unwittingly arching to meet Mac again. Shouting. Sputtering random and desperate moans mixed in with Mac’s name. He lands back into a post-orgasmic world where his awareness is back to normal and he sees Mac above him, sees that he’d been watching Dennis the whole time, sees that he’s still fucking Dennis, sees his come dripping down Mac’s chest, filled with a sense of wonderment at something he’s never seen before._

_“You know, they say it’s rude to watch someone come.”_

_Mac looks surprised at this. “Really?”_

_“No,” Dennis snorts. “I don’t know. Don’t really care. Either way, I think it’s my turn to watch you.”_

_Dennis rides Mac until he’s begging god for mercy._

 

“What was it?” Rex slurs, tipsy. “Right hand blue?" 

“No, goddamn it Rex! Now I gotta drink again!” Charlie chugs his beer and flicks the spinner, which everyone protests at because he wasn’t supposed to do that. “What?”

“You need to drink again, Charlie. Spinning it wrong is another sip of beer.”

“No, it’s scotch.”

Charlie stumbles over to the table with the glasses of scotch, lined up tequila shots, and surprisingly, an entire jug of Bloody Mary. There’s also a shit ton of beers, in case anyone runs out.

Mac scowls at Dee. “It’s beer, and you know it, you bitch!”

“Screw you, Mac! I’m the one who taught everyone the rules to the game, so what I say goes. It’s scotch!”

“You showed us the rules on some dumb website! And the dumb website says beer! B, E, E, E, R, BEER!”

“Oh shut up!” Charlie snaps. “I’ll, I’ll just do both, I’ll do both, okay? I’ll do both!” his gaze snaps to Rex. “GODDAMN IT REX, I SAID RIGHT HAND RED! RIGHT HAND RED!”

“Oh, sorry!” Rex moves his hand to the right place. Or at least, the place Charlie mentioned.

“Right hand red isn’t even right anymore! You respun the wheel!”

“It’s not even a wheel! It’s not a stupid wheel, you bitch! Because a _wheel_ would spin better than this stupid piece of shit!” He throws the spinner to the ground and spits on it, he’s on the verge of tears. “You stupid _fucking_ piece of shit!”

Dennis does a quick search on his phone. He’s been cheating the whole game, but apparently, no one’s really noticed. Everyone here is severely lacking in Twister rule knowledge. Even the special drinking game Twister rules that Dee showed them online. Both Mac and Dee have been wrong throughout their whole argument, by the way, Charlie wasn’t supposed to drink _at all_ even if he did something wrong with the spinner. No matter how many times he spins it. “He’s right,” Dennis says, chiming in. “According to Wikipedia, it’s a _spinner_ on top of a square board, not a wheel.”

“Eh, whatever,” Frank crashes to the ground, unable to keep his stance on Left Leg Yellow. “I’m too tired to play, I’m just gonna drink.”

Dee collapses to the ground too. “Oh who even cares. If it’s spinny, it should be a—it should be considered a wheel!”

“Oh my god. Oh my god, you stupid bitch who even cares anymore! Let’s just play the stupid game!”

“The _game_ can’t _continue_ because you’re not doing the spinner thing, you idiot!”

“Yeah, Charlie,” Frank hands over the discarded board as he hops on a stool at the table, nursing down a beer. “Make ‘em move, I’m getting bored.”

Charlie clutches his face in his hands. “I can’t, I can’t take this shit anymore! You guys are driving me crazy! You think I can keep up with the demands of being Twister spinner master? It is–“

“Oh Charlie, shut up. If you don’t wanna work the spinner, which is, might I add, the easiest job in the whole game, then just swap with someone else!” Dennis points to Dee. “Go switch with Charlie, Dee. You’re being the biggest bitch about this anyway.”

Huffing, Dee relents, and she swaps positions with Charlie. Setting her beer on the table, she gives the wheel a spin. “Charlie. Left Leg Green.”

He moves his leg to green, then peeks at the board. “Wait a minute. Dee, that says Left Hand Blue.”

Dee glances down at the board. “Oh. Must’ve moved after I called it.”

“Are you sure? Because Left Leg Green and Left Hand Blue are two _completely_ different things, Dee, and we can’t be messing with the laws of the game. The Twister gods will strike down on us, Dee, don’t fuck this up!”

Dee scoffs. “What? Don’t be insane, it doesn’t matter. None of this matters.”

“Are you kidding me? Of course it matters! It could destroy the whole game if you get it wrong! So is it Left Hand Blue, or Left Leg Green?”

“A little help here?” Dee beckons the rest of them. “I’m this close to breaking.”

“I actually think Charlie is right, Dee–“

“Oh, you’re breaking? Well I’ll break your bones, Dee! I’ll break ‘em good!”

“I WILL RIP YOUR GUTS INSIDE AND OUT–“

“OKAY OKAY OKAY–“ the situation is no longer amusing to Dennis and to be honest cheating his way through Twister hasn’t been much fun at all. “This has gone on long enough. I think Twister is too intense for us, I think it’s getting us far too riled up–“ he shoots a look of accusation at Rex–“so thanks a lot for that.”

“Yeah,” Mac slumps over a chair, switching from beer to scotch. “I’m getting bored anyway. Let’s play something else.”

A silence lulls over the room. Frank chokes on his spit and wakes up. “What’s goin’ on?”

“Thinking of something new to play. Twister got too violent.”

“We could play... Chardee MacDennis,” Dee suggests, shooting a smile at Dennis. It’s one of the few things they share small secret smiles over, because they know they always win, and boy do they love winning.

Charlie and Mac get all disgruntled over this. “Uh, that game’s all the way back at the bar, dude.”

“Yeah, and it’s like, way too bulky to bring all the way here anyway.”

“What’s Chardee MacDennis?” Rex asks curiously, and panic alarms set off in Dennis’ head. No. He can’t know. This game is the gang’s, and if he becomes a part of it? They might start including him in the game, and they might start including him in hang out sessions and shit, and before Dennis knows it he’ll be there all the damn time. No. He’s not letting things change.

“Uh, nothing. We’re not playing it. Don’t even bother.”

“Why can’t we play it?” Frank complains. “Rex could be my teammate. I’ve never had a proper teammate before. Gettin’ tired of flying solo in the game. So hard to win.”

“Well, uh, we can’t play, because as Mac and Charlie have so clearly stated, the game’s too bulky. Yeah, can’t bring it over, plus it’s too far away. Besides,” he nervously chuckles. “We can’t waste our time on games! Rex isn’t done unpacking.”

Charlie, Dee, and Frank, who are the reason they’re all here in the first place, as well as the only three in the room lying on the floor, this close to passing out somehow despite not really doing all that much today, groan in a creepy unison.

“Do we have to?”

“Yeah. I’m not opening anymore boxes, man.”

“I’m hungry. Let’s go get some dinner.”

“Oh, that sounds good, actually,” Rex says, rubbing his stomach. All three of them sit right back up. “Honestly, I can finish unpacking on my own later. We should all get something to eat.”

Dennis doesn’t like that he’s including himself in their dinner plans.

“But first–“ Rex continues, still talking! For some reason–“there’s something I have to ask. In fact, I swore to Charlie, Dee, and Frank here that I’d go through with it.”

“Through with what?” Frank looks confused and clearly forgot about whatever it was Rex said he was gonna do, But Charlie gives him a thumbs up and Dee offers him a nod. Those actions alone are enough to make Dennis very uneasy.

“Mac,” Rex turns to look at the man, and Dennis can’t feel his face. “There’s something I have to tell you. I mean, ask you. It’s a little bit of both, actually.”

“Oh, cool. What is it, man?”

Dennis has his fist clenched so tight he can feel nails digging into his palm. And they might pierce skin, let alone leave marks.

“Hanging out with you this past week... it’s been so fun, Mac. And I think I like you. I kinda, I kind of realized that.”

“Oh.”

“So I guess what I’m saying is... will you go out on a date with me?”

It is taking all of Dennis’ self-control not to put his fist through the wall.

“Oh, man. That’s great and... you’re great and all, but I don’t think I can do that.”

Rex looks genuinely offset by this and a warm feeling grows in Dennis’ heart. It starts from the pit of his stomach and just like hot air, it rises, and soon he feels it all over. Fuzzy, like happiness. Something actually resembling happiness for once.

“Uh,” he seems unsure of what to say. “Can I ask why?”

“Yeah, Mac, what the fuck?”

“What are you doing, man? The hot guy wants a date with you, say yes you idiot!”

Dennis wants Dee and Charlie to shut the hell up. For once, in their fucking lives.

Mac shrugs. “Sorry. But I’m with Dennis, so...”

_“What?”_

Everyone looks at Dennis. Because the word came sharply out of _his_ mouth.

Mac gives him a relenting look. “Okay, bro, I know we didn’t talk about making this public, but I gotta let everyone know now, right? I mean, I’m not gonna go out with Rex and lead the guy on just to keep our relationship secret.”

There is a huge, huge, elephant in the room. And it’s expanding with every passing second.

“When did we–“ he can’t feel his entire body–“when did I, when did _anyone_ say _anything_ about us dating?”

Mac rolls his eyes. “Dennis, we had _sex.”_

Dee chugs her beer. So does Frank. Charlie just stares at them, unblinking. Dennis doesn’t care for Rex’s reaction to this.

He’s also having trouble getting his words out.

“S–so?”

“Oh, and that was just, what? A one time thing, a one night stand to you or something?”

 

_They’re still lying in bed half an hour after anyone’s dick was in anyone’s ass. Just lying there, bare, naked, Mac’s arm around Dennis’ shoulder, Dennis lying on Mac’s chest, feeling so warm and so... full. He hasn’t had a moment where he’s not itching for something, some kind of fulfillment or release, in so long by now. And right now he’s content. He wants for nothing, needs for nothing, just stays in Mac’s arms and holds him like he’ll die if he lets go._

 

Dennis gulps. “Yeah.”

A beer bottle comes crashing to the ground, and it’s because Mac flung it down with force. He’s angry now, livid. “Unbelievable! Unbelievable, dude!”

“What do you want from me, Mac?”

 

_After what seems like forever yet also just a fleeting moment, Mac pulls away from Dennis’ grasp and in that split second he’s never felt more empty in his life._

_“Where are you going?”_

_Mac chuckles. “Bathroom. We can’t just lie in our jizz forever, dude.”_

_It’s a good point, but Dennis doesn’t want him to go anyway. “Oh, and you’re the hygiene police suddenly?”_

_“No, I just have good manners,” Mac approaches with a damp towel that’s warm in the most soothing way, and he’s cleaning Dennis up. The softness and gentleness in which Mac handles him is the most appreciated and loved that Dennis has felt in the longest time. No one’s taken care of him like this before, not after sex, that’s for sure. For him, sex usually means having to run away or kick someone out after. He doesn’t remember cuddling for ages with anyone, and no one ever bothered cleaning him up. Girls have horrible manners, apparently. But Dennis supposes he never really gave any of them a chance to try._

_Still, Dennis laughs. It’s low and somewhat loving to reflect what he’s receiving from Mac, because he’ll shoot himself in the foot before he puts that on the line. “Manners? You are one of the rudest people I know.”_

_Mac snorts, laughing along with Dennis, and it all feels so cozy. He kisses him on the forehead. “Shut the fuck up.”_

 

Mac scoffs. “What do I want from you? You kidding me dude? You really don’t know? I want you to stop being such a fucking liar!” He throws something at Dennis and it smashes against the wall behind him.

“When did I lie, Mac?”

Mac tightens his fist, and he yells again. Dennis doesn’t feel like he’s in control of his body, like everything he’s saying and doing right now is based on instinct and every knee-jerk reaction he has in store. It’s ugly, and what Dennis did was ugly, and he knew there’d be consequences, and now, right before his very eyes, in front of the entire gang, he watches those consequences unfold.

“You said,” Mac swallows, on the verge of tears. It’s a pity to see, and Dennis knows he himself has no tears, but his eyes do hurt, and his vision is getting slightly compromised, and his nose is sore even though none of Mac’s deserved punches have swung against it yet. “You said you were for real this time.”

 

_They’re kissing again. It’s sweet and salty and if he’s being honest, it’s leaning towards salty and also to be honest, it’s not very salty, it’s just... it’s Mac. He tastes Mac and it’s a good he can’t describe but he knows sweet is good and salty is good so he tries to pit them against Mac but in all honesty they don’t compare. He likes Mac better._

_Mac crawls under the covers with Dennis and he can’t help but feel safer when that happens. They kiss some more._

_“Don’t leave me,” Dennis says, or blurts out more like, and he’s not sure why he said it or how he’s going to keep the situation from getting not weird._

_Mac just beams. “Not goin’ anywhere, dude.”_

 

“No, Mac. I, I. You merely asked if I was for real. I didn’t answer.”

The door slams, and Mac disappears on the other side of it.

 

* * *

 

“Oh yeah uh... that does sound dark. Sounds real dark, man.”

Dinner is solemn. They order takeout and eat more or less silently in an empty booth in their empty bar and... Mac isn’t there. Okay. It isn’t quiet. It wasn’t quiet. It hasn’t been quiet at all. Dee and Charlie let him stew in his own juices or what have you when Dennis silently drove them all back to the bar (which is a more than understandable decision) at first, but the second he got off the phone with the restaurant questions shot left and right and Dennis could barely keep up with anything, he barely heard their questions in the first place but he supposed they wanted to know what happened.

No one is more surprised than Dennis to know that he actually tells them.

Well, whatever. Mac kind of revealed everything anyway. At least by telling the gang his side of the story, they know his reasons for it. However dark and seemingly sinister they might be.

“Nah, that’s not dark. Not dark at all, Charlie.”

Dennis pauses mid-bite to look up at Dee. What does she mean by all this? It’s not like Dennis is trying to look bad and fight to get painted as dark—he knew what he did was kinda shitty—he knew he hurt Mac real bad this time. “What’s that supposed to mean? Mac stormed out, according to the cameras in our apartment he’s not home, so, he’s definitely devastated by my rejection.”

Dee shrugs. “Eh, not that. Mac’s feelings about the whole thing doesn’t have anything to do with whether this is dark. He’s just gonna pretend it never happened and things’ll go back to normal. As usual.”

“Yeah,” Charlie nods. “She’s right dude. Mac forgives anything you do.”

“Oh come on–“ Dennis attempts to argue, but they’re right and what’s so wrong with Mac forgiving him so easily all the time? It just means that Dennis is impossible to stay mad at for long–“okay. Okay, fine. So what would make what I did dark? I’m not saying it’s dark, I just–“

“Okay. It would be one thing. To be a straight guy. And to bang your _best friend_ into staying with you and not going out to hang out with another guy—no. Wait, you know what?” Dee exasperates, half frustrated, half on the verge of belly-clutching laughter. “ _Nothing_ about that is straight.”

“Dee, you bitch–“

“But no, really!” She’s actually laughing now, the psycho. “What about that situation has a heterosexual explanation? Explain it to me. Tell me, what would compel a _straight man_ into having sex with his _male roommate_ —completely on his own terms–“

“There was no other way to stop him from leaving!”

“I’m not finished—what straight reason would any man have to so badly _need_ his male best friend to not go hang out with some other guy, that he’d have sex with him right then and there?”

Charlie seems to be enjoying this whole charade too. Good for him! Good for all of them! Let’s all laugh about how Dennis and Mac had sex and how it somehow meant something! “Yeah, dude. Mac fucked you in the ass and shit. There’s no coming back from that, man.”

“Some butts can’t be unfucked,” Frank chimes in halfway through his last bite of dinner. Dennis really wishes he’d saved his input for never. 

He pushes his food in front of him. He could barely taste a thing anyway. He was only putting it all in his mouth for show. Which, coincidentally, is what he did with Mac’s cock! So if he doesn’t secretly want to eat, and was literally just eating food to blend in with the rest, by extension that should mean he didn’t want to have sex with Mac and was _literally_ just trying to make sure he didn’t leave so that... things wouldn’t change! Yes, that’s right, he didn’t want Mac to leave him for Rex because Mac could get tempted into moving out or something, and become best friends with Rex, or worse, boyfriends, and Dennis would be replaced and that would just be annoying.

Yes. So there’s your heterosexual reason for having sex with Mac so that he’d stay.

But Dennis doesn’t explain any of his epiphanies to Charlie, Dee, or Frank. Instead, he gets mad. Instead, he gets up and spits “I don’t need to take this. I’m not gonna sit here and take this,” and walks. He hears someone yell “yeah, you’re gonna go home and take Mac!” and he hears laughs for that cheap, poorly thought out and executed joke.

He hears the door slam behind him like it did a year ago. He hears himself leave.

 

* * *

 

_So much for being straight._

When Dennis goes home, he locks himself in his room so he won’t have to see or talk to Mac when he gets to their apartment, but then he immediately turns on the home surveillance app he has on his electronic tab equipped with sound and all that jazz, so he can see and hear Mac the second he comes back. He rolls on his side, he listens to dead air.

Mac comes back home, because of course he would, because of course Dennis wasn’t worried about that at all, because of course his heart hasn’t been pounding this whole time, slowing down only when he heard the door open and slam shut, before speeding up again for a different reason. Because of course Mac would return to him.

He turns to watch silently and with mild amusement as Mac sighs, seeming tense and frustrated as he should be, taking one longing and wistful look in the direction of Dennis’ room before he retires to his own. When he’s inside, Dennis switches cameras on the viewing screen to Mac’s room before rolling over and lying on his back, staring at the mundane ceiling.

He wants to see stars instead. He hears Mac get into the shower. He hears water wash its way down a drain, he doesn’t think about Mac being in the shower, hot steam clouding glass, drops of water rolling down his body. He doesn’t think about Mac maybe getting himself off in the shower, getting himself off _angrily_ in the shower, hissing Dennis’ name like he detests him, coming to the thought of him anyway.

A stroke of arousal brushes over him and he gets slightly erect. More erect than he should be given how he’s lying in his bed and staring at the ceiling. And listening to Mac shower. He ignores it. He goes back to his flaccid form and he moves on.

_So much for being straight._

The water stops and Mac steps out of the shower and into his bed and Dennis thinks it’s probably time to turn his device off and go to bed himself but then he hears covers being thrown off beds and he hears Mac getting up. He hears Mac opening his drawer and when he looks he sees him getting out his lube. He turns away and he knows Mac is... preparing himself.

He hears Mac get on his dildo bike. He hears a grunt. He hears cycling. He hears moans. Mac keeps making it very clear that he’s pleasuring himself very effectively no matter how hard Dennis keeps his eyes focused on the ceiling, no matter how hard he tries to tune it all out (he could easily just shut the device off, but he doesn’t).

Just like that, he’s hard. His penis is very much erect, to the point where he can’t make himself go flaccid again, it’s physically impossible to make himself stop. His heart is pounding and he’s so aroused it hurts, it physically _hurts_ his dick to be this hard, and eventually there’s nothing he can do but to... take care of the issue. And so he does.

Thin fingers, his own, wrap begrudgingly around his own cock as he strokes it in tandem with the rhythm Mac takes, the same pace at which Mac is currently fucking himself, and it is so good he lets out a cry. A tear falls from his eye because the sheer relief from getting off to Mac getting _himself_ off is far too overwhelming, and the only thing inadequate about the whole situation is how Mac isn’t on top of him.

Mac’s name falls from his lips in a whimper when he comes. He feels ashamed, almost. He knows it wouldn’t matter if he screamed out _Mac_ at the top of his voice, because his room is still so soundproof that Mac would be none the wiser. It’s the guilt that keeps him quiet. It’s the shame that holds him back. He shuts his surveillance app once and for all and rolls over feeling heavier than he has all day.

_So much for being straight._

 

* * *

 

Dennis maybe goes the extra mile when he makes breakfast the next morning. Yes. He’s that good a roommate. Mac staggers out his room with a limp and lets out a loud yawn to see a table filled with anything he could desire.

There is bacon and eggs and no other examples of breakfast food laid out on the table.

Because Dennis isn’t done cooking yet. What? He said he went the extra mile, not that he woke up early to do it. If Mac wants pancakes (of the chocolate and blueberry variety!), he can wait. If Mac wants cereal, he can go get the Fruit Loops in the pantry and the milk from the fridge by himself.

“What’s this?” Mac asks tiredly, a cold quality to his voice, and when Dennis turns around he can tell Mac is keeping some distance. He’s just standing there, not even bothering to sit down even though he clearly came into the kitchen for food.

“Breakfast. Made by yours truly, Mac. Don’t say I–“

“Oh. Well, cool. Don’t make extra for me though, I’m going out. I’m uh, I’m going to the gym.”

He disappears back into his room again and emerges with his gym bag, very clearly rushing out of the goddamn motherfucking apartment. Dennis stares at him the entire time, smoke from his burning pancake wafting up to his nose but he ignores it and glares, he glares at Mac, clearly livid, but either Mac doesn’t notice or Mac doesn’t care.

And then he’s gone.

A plate goes crashing into their wall, and Dennis dumps everything he’s cooked and prepared so far in the trash. Mac can go fuck himself for all Dennis cares! He didn’t deserve any of this anyway, didn’t deserve to have Dennis do anything nice for him, he just doesn’t deserve it!

He stares at all the food in the bin. It looks divine because he cooked it but also he sees the food and he looks at it with distaste. Dennis grabs his stuff and leaves to have breakfast elsewhere. He can’t be at home right now.

 

* * *

 

Slowly, mostly staring into blank space if he’s being honest, Dennis nurses a gradually cooling cup of coffee at some cafe he doesn’t know. It could be a restaurant too. Dennis doesn’t know, he didn’t check the signboard, he just knows that he drove somewhere in Philly based on whims and he’s in a place he’s never been to before.

It’s good. Being here all by himself. Not with Mac. Not with the gang. Just him, doing next to nothing. It’s great! It’s fantastic! He doesn’t feel empty in the slightest! He’s glad Mac decided not to have breakfast and just left for the gym right away like some kind of fanatic or health nut. That’s who he is now! And it’s totally cool, or chill, or whatever.

“Dennis?”

His eyes follow whoever’s clearly identified him in this stupid _wherever_ , it’s crazy how small this stupid world is, if he’s gonna get recognized by some rando in a place he’s never even been to before.

But then Dennis sees who it is.

“Economy John?”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> yeah dennis straight up fucking,,,,,,,,, fuck dennis lives but also he is now unable. to suppress his attraction to mac anymore, as seen in the him getting hard and jerking off to mac scene,,,,, something in him snapped when he got buttfucked huh frank was right,,,,,,,, anyway!! HMM wonder what economy john is doing here!! also dennis calling him economy john is completely moronic of him and will be addressed see you next chapter i PROMISE this time it's really the last one!!!!!!!!
> 
> Edit: it’s not stay tuned for 8 chapters (fun fact 8 is my fave number) i tECHNICALLY didn’t lie ch8 will almost be an “epilogue” chapter of sorts so!!! Stay tuned!!!!


	7. some of them want to use you, some of them want to get used by you

“ _Economy_ John?”

Economy John guffaws heartily after he says this, sliding into the other side of the booth. Dennis shakes his head, as if to get rid of whatever glitched in his head. Economy John? Where’d he come up with that? Eh, probably some leftover instinct from, uh, some interaction he had with the man at some point during their short-lived friendship? It’s not like he can remember everything that went down between them. But he likes the name now, so regardless of what he insists on being called, Dennis is calling him Economy John in his head.

He laughs softly for effect. “Sorry. I’ve been a little in over my head today. Uh, John, is it? Haven’t seen you around in a while.”

Obviously, Dennis knows that’s his fault to a large degree, but he can’t give Economy John the power by reminding him of that or by letting him know he remembers their last interaction ended with him kicking the guy out his own garage. He did sell Dennis his beloved Range Rover though, so he knows the best move here is to play it cool.

“Yeah. Where’ve you been? You never returned my texts. Still dabble in Fantasy?”

Dennis shakes his head. “Uh. I got. Busy. It’s, it’s my bar. That I run with my friends.”

Economy John lights up. “Cool! That’s really cool, you never told me you ran a bar.”

Dennis leans back in his seat. He supposes this conversation isn’t going all that bad. He remembers why Economy John was so good now. The guy couldn’t appreciate a Range Rover to save his life, but his loss, Dennis’ gain, right? “There’s a lot of things you don’t know about me, John.”

“Always so mysterious,” he smiles, eyes averting, “that’s what I liked so much about you.”

Dennis raises an eyebrow. “Oh?”

Economy John bites down on his lip. “Okay. So. I promise it’s long gone by now, but the truth is I did have a... bit of a crush on you. For a hot minute or two. It’s no big deal. Nothing,” he’s flustered. “Forget I even said anything, actually."

“No no no...” Dennis reassures, his hand hovering above Economy John’s. “It’s not an issue. But frankly, I’m, well I won’t say I’m surprised, because–“ he gestures to himself with a smirk–“but I, I thought you had a thing for... who was that broad again? The woman who was there?”

“Oh, you mean Tara?” Economy John cracks up. “Well, whatever vibe you picked up, I think you were wrong. Tara’s gay. As... am I.”

“Oh. Okay. I didn’t know that. That actually explains a lot.”

“Yeah,” Economy John fiddles with a fork. “Tara’s my best friend. I love her, and I _do_ worship the ground she walks on, but in like, you know, a platonic way? I bet you do that with your best friend too–“ Dennis’ face sours far too obviously for Economy John to ignore–“oh. Uh, I’m sorry. Do you not have a best friend? Because that’s completely okay, no one really _needs_ a best–“

“I’ll just,” Dennis holds his hands up to get Economy John to stop talking. “Stop you right there. I... do have a best friend. Best _friends_ , actually, but that’s not the point right now and if I’m. If I’m being honest Mac is my best friend. The one I need most, anyway.”

He goes quiet at that and Economy John gets concerned. “Is everything okay, Dennis?”

“It’s, it’s fine.” Dennis waves his concerns off. “Mac is... Mac is my best friend. And I... might be way more attracted to him than I deserve to be.”

Yup. He’s admitted it now. Something snapped in him probably, the day he had sex with Mac. Or perhaps last night, when he got hot and heavy on Mac’s moans alone. Something completely changed and after pushing Mac away and possibly breaking their friendship... he realizes it now, knows there’s no denying it. And even if he did, the orgasm he had last night begs to differ.

Economy John’s eyes widen. “Oh. Wow. I don’t think I saw that coming. I mean, I felt some vibes here and there but I was never sure. Maybe I would’ve made a move if I knew you were gay too.”

“I’m not–“ Dennis quickly interrupts–“I don’t, I’m, I’m not gay.”

“Oh, I’m sorry. I’m not biphobic I swear, I just tend to use gay as a sort of umbrella term? But I know some bi guys are really particular about that and I completely respect–“

“Nope, not bi either pal,” he clarifies, lips pursing together, feeling tense once more. “I’m not sure what I am. Not anymore. And I don’t think you’re allowed to call yourself straight if you’re a dude who wants to have sex. With your best friend. Who is also a dude,” he sighs.

Economy John covers Dennis’ hand reassuringly with his own. “Hey, that’s okay.”

Dennis looks up at the man. There’s something about talking to Economy John that feels different from talking to the rest of the gang, something oddly freeing and safe. It’s weird to feel this way, given how he’s known the gang for years and years while he technically barely knows Economy John. But maybe that’s the reason. He barely knows Economy John. _There’s no stakes._ He can say whatever he wants to this man and it wouldn’t matter. No one in the gang would know. Dennis could even block it out his own mind after parting ways with Economy John, pretend words were never said, if that’s what he wants. He can speak without thinking. He can say whatever comes to mind without processing any of it. Suddenly, he feels numb, like there’s an absence of something, and it takes a while to piece together that that something... was fear. Fear dissipates and relief takes its place. He feels relaxed. Somewhat.

“It is? Why... why would that be okay?”

“You don’t have to have your sexuality figured out. You don’t have to force yourself into a box. Your sexuality can just be fluid, you’re under no obligation to define it.”

“But it’s not just that–“ Dennis says, more distressed now. “I don’t think I’m fluid either. I’m not sure I’m anything. I don’t know what’s going on.”

“Care to explain?”

Dennis takes in a deep breath. “Okay. So. I liked girls, right? Like girls were great, and they were always... enough. I guess. I think. They were, they were something I was interested in. I liked picking up women and taking them to bed, or banging them somewhere somewhat sex-conducive and then never seeing them again.”

Economy John tries his best to keep his face neutral. “Right.”

“But these days it’s not like that. I don’t feel that way. I keep trying, I keep _telling_ myself I want women and that I want to take home women and do, do sex, but I can’t. For a while, I made up some excuses. Like this woman was gross, or that woman would take too much work... but the truth is I wanted nothing to do with any of them. Not anymore.” He takes a quick scan of the room. “Right now, too. Every single one of these women are trash and I’m actually, I’m actually somehow... disgusted, by them,” he shrugs. Some lady within earshot gives Dennis a pissed off look and he retaliates by sticking his tongue menacingly out at her. “Anyway, yeah. I tried, I tried watching porn the other day. Straight porn, you know, and... I couldn’t get it up. I remember telling myself I was tired but all that stuff just wasn’t—just isn’t working for me anymore. And I have a feeling it never will again. Is that, should I be scared of that?”

Economy John’s face is unreadable. “I don’t think you should be scared of that at all, Dennis, but I think you _are_ scared. I’m not trying to overstep or push you into a label or anything, but is there a chance you’re afraid to call yourself gay?”

“I’m not afraid of being _gay_ –“ Dennis deflates when he realizes how over defensive he sounds–“just. Okay, so, I want Mac, right? That’s, that’s one thing, but liking men in general? That’s something else all together. And I’ve felt nothing. I go to the gym a lot, or well, I went a couple times, and I wasn’t drooling over anyone there. Not like how he gets over men.” Dennis grits his teeth. “No, I was annoyed, actually, at how some of them were hitting on Mac or looking at him in a way I just don’t appreciate. So if the most I feel for a man that’s not Mac is extreme irritation, how could I call myself gay? How _can_ I call myself gay?” He smacks his lips together in thought. “What if I’m like, macsexual or something?” Economy John snorts, so Dennis takes it all back. “Forget I said that, it, it’s stupid.”

“A little bit, a little bit. I don’t think all that has anything to do with you being gay or straight, Dennis, and it definitely has _nothing_ to do with you being macsexual. That’s not a thing. I don’t think. I think it has everything to do with you being in love with Mac. And only having eyes for him because of that. Also, a great deal of jealousy,” he simpers. “You were a little like that when we hung out too. Sometimes I’d be talking to some guy and when I looked up I’d see you glaring at us for just a second before you looked away.”

Love, huh? Well. Yeah. He’s in love with Mac, sure. Maybe full on ass sex was all he needed to realize that. Maybe that’s why they call it making love.

“Well, uh,” his face feels hot, “I probably wanted to talk to you about something. And I bet whoever you were chatting up was taking forever.” He shrugs. “You can’t blame me for being a little pissed.”

A waitress walks by them. “Hey, John.” Oh. He’s clearly a regular here. “Water for you?”

Economy John nods and he takes a sip of the water she pours him. “Exactly my point, Dennis. You can be a tad possessive.”

“And so? What about it?”

“I never said it was bad.” Economy John gives him a carefully curated smile. Or maybe it’s just a regular smile. Whatever. “Although you should probably try and keep it under control with this, your Mac, when you’re chasing him. Or wooing him, or whatever you want to call it.”

Dennis breaks into a wide smile at this. “Me? Chase Mac? Please. The guy has got it _bad_ for me. He’s been in love with me for years.”

“Oh,” Economy John looks confused now. “So... what’s the issue?”

“What?”

“Why aren’t you together?” Economy John laughs nervously. “I mean, he loves you, you love him, what’s the problem?”

Dennis looks away. “Uh. Well.”

“Dennis? What happened there?”

“I may have... pushed him away a bit. Several times. I didn’t know how I felt before, or, to be more accurate, I think I refused to accept how I felt before. Might have been a little harsh, and Mac might be a little mad.”

“But you know differently now, right?”

“Right.”

“And you want to be with him now, don’t you?”

“Well, I, I suppose... yes.”

“So...” Economy John clasps his hands together. “What’s stopping you from going over to him now and telling him that? Maybe he’d be less angry at you if he knew you feel the same way?”

“Wow.” Economy John is... right. Dennis would’ve thought of the same thing, of course, he’s just, he must be far too sleep deprived to think. “I should do that.”

Economy John nods his head readily. “Yes! You should!”

Dennis slides out of the booth but pauses at the last minute because of a random intrusive thought that probably doesn’t matter, yet he can’t leave without tying all the knots or possibly having any sort of doubt about running after Mac at the gym. “Wait. What about my, my sexuality? We still haven’t figured that out.”

“I don’t think we need to, Dennis. You love Mac. You’re in love with him. Hold onto that fact and you’ll be fine.”

Dennis awkwardly taps Economy John on his shoulder. “Thanks. For... everything, I suppose.”

“No problem. Just, Dennis—don’t be a stranger, okay?”

He nods, and then he’s out the door. Wow. What a weird start to the day. He’ll probably never come back to this place ever again.

One thing is for sure though. He has to tell Mac how he feels.

 

* * *

 

Charlie and Dee are on some sort of food spree today. You name it, they’re probably buying it and eating it on the go as they traverse the city. They’ve been incredibly productive today, from getting a place in the Philadelphia Pride Parade, to getting a float for the parade, to getting a bar for the float, to getting some weird water shower thingy Mac said he needed for his dance. You name it, they bought it with Frank’s credit card. 

Heck, they actually _convinced_ Frank to let them use him credit card, so that’s an act of productivity in and of itself. And all this productivity has them ravenous and incredibly mobile today.

“God, Charlie,” Dee marvels. “You were right, eating spaghetti on the go is so good,” she slurps, and then slurps some more. “Is the cheese with you?”

He hands over their little ziplock bag of parmesan and Dee goes to town on her noodles. “Right?” he assents, mouth full. “I’m having the time of my life.”

“And these meatballs,” she groans as she bites into one. “They’re so good, and the jam only makes it better.” She takes a very brief pause from eating. “I might cry, Charlie.”

“Don’t cry yet, Dee,” he puts down his fork. “You need me to slap you?” to psyche her up, of course.

“No, no,” she clears her throat. “I’m good. You wanna get burgers after this?”

Charlie’s eyes widen like he’s been waiting for her to say that all day. “Yes, I wanna burger so bad, Dee, I think I’m still starving.”

“Do you think we got a tapeworm again?”

“Don’t know, don’t care, man. I’m just, food is so good, and I’m so pumped up and shit—I still can’t believe they let us be in the gay parade and all that–“

“Oh yeah, that was crazy.” She snorts. “I still can’t believe they bought that I was a lesbian.”

Charlie nods sort of awkwardly as if he’s not on the same line of thought. “Uh huh. Yeah, definitely, totally can’t believe they bought that. At uh, all. You know what was really crazy though? Was when they thought, like, I was—ashe—what, what was it again?”

“Asexual?”

“Yeah, asexual! No idea what that was about.”

Dee quietly chomps on her meatball. She decides not to argue that with Charlie because well, whatever makes him feel better, y’know? She finishes every bit of her spaghetti and meatballs and when she’s done licking sauce off her fork she feels a bit empty.

“Ooh! Burger place! Burger place, Dee!”

They dump their trash in the nearest trash can, not looking to see if they’ve successfully made it in, and run for their lives towards burgers like they haven’t seen food in years.

“Oh, heaven. Hi, heaven.”

The cashier lady looks uncomfortably at them. “Uh, can I help you?”

“Can I get like, a thousand cheeseburgers?”

“Um. What?” The fear of god runs through her.

Dee laughs with her hand on Charlie’s shoulder to get him to calm down. “That’s a, a figure of speech. He means...” she looks at Charlie to gauge his current state. “Four cheeseburgers. And a chicken sandwich for variety. For both of us, so that makes it eight cheeseburgers and two chicken sandwiches.”

Charlie smiles, satisfied by that order. “And, please make sure there’s no _beak_ in the chicken?”

She looks confused again. “Uh... yes sir, sure. I’ll see to it that there’s no beak in the chicken.”

“Thank you.”

Pretty soon, they’re out on the streets again, chomping down on their burgers, in complete and total silence for at least five minutes until Dee speaks.

“You know what we’re missing out on?”

“Fries?”

Dee looks at Charlie like he’s just said the most inspiring thing she’s ever heard in her life. “Yes! Fries! And, and milkshakes! But that’s not what I’m talking about.”

They start walking back in the direction of the burger place. “Oh. What’re you talking ‘bout Dee?”

“The float. We need someone to drive it.”

“Oh.” He chomps down on his burger. “Right.”

“Should we forget about this and think la—wait. There’s Dennis.”

He looks at her. “You want Dennis to drive the float?”

“No, I meant _there’s_ Dennis,” she points ahead. “As in, he’s right over there, at the stoplight.”

“Oh!”

They rush towards Dennis’ car right away and get his attention, scaring him in the process.

“Woah! What’s wrong with you guys?”

“What? You want a cheeseburger, dude?”

“No I don’t want a—oh. Actually that smells kinda good–“ he nearly takes the cheeseburger but something snaps inside him and he changes his mind–“no, no! Get that away from me. I’m busy. I got shit to do. You guys seen Mac? He wasn’t at the gym.”

“I mean. If he’s not at the gym the guy’s either at home or the bar.” None of them are particularly fond of being on their own, or going places too far away when alone. One might call it codependency, but Dee chooses to think that it’s safety in numbers.

“Why don’t you just call or text him dude?”

Dennis looks away.

“Oh,” Dee grins. “He’s really mad this time, huh?”

Dennis rolls his eyes. “Shut up. Don’t you two have more important things to do than guzzle down food in the middle of nowhere like a couple of monsters?”

“Uh, excuse you, Dennis, but me and Dee have been doing a crap load of important stuff all day. At least we’re not moping around getting ignored by Mac.”

“Oh, shut up. I, I don’t know why I bothered to talk to either of you. I’m on my way to do something way more important than whatever the hell either of you have been doing,” and then he drives off, leaving Dee and Charlie there. They don’t care, though.

“Wanna get those fries?”

“I thought you’d never ask.”

 

* * *

 

“Okay. So?”

Dennis has never known such humiliation.

“ _Okay, so?”_ He huffs. “Mac, I just told you I’m in love with you. How are you not popping open a champagne bottle, or, or kissing me like I just saved the world right now?”

Mac stands up, gives him a very fake smile, like, deliberately fake, patronizingly fake, to rub it in almost, and then squeezes his shoulder. “Good job!”

“Mac, what the hell? You can’t possibly still be mad–“

“What do you want me to say, Dennis?” Mac lashes out, turning around to look at him, and Dennis isn’t sure if this is better or worse than the flagrant disregard of his love confession. “What do you expect me to do? Run into your arms? Cry? Come crawling back because you claim to love me? How pathetic do you think I am?”

Dennis’ reaction to this shows entirely on his face and it offends Mac greatly, so much so that he hollers in frustration and smashes down on something with his fist.

“Screw you, Dennis! You fucking hurt me. You fucking lied to me. You really thought–“ he titters in disbelief–“you really thought I’d just take you back like nothing happened just because you changed your mind? And what if you change your mind back! I’m just going to look like a goddamn idiot again, and I’ve had enough of that shit! So love me all you want, Dennis. I don’t _care.”_

Dennis’ heart pounds against his chest in an agonizing pain. He tightens his fist, squeezes it so tight it goes numb, and he’s curling his toes in his shoes, not giving Mac the satisfaction of seeing him cry. His throat feels so sour. “You’re going to regret this.”

“No, Dennis. I’m not. Because unlike what you think—I’m not just sitting around, waiting for you to change your mind and love me. I have my own shit to do, I have my own life to live. With or without you man. And honestly? I think it’s high time I went after something I _actually_ deserve.”

A door slams and Dennis’ heart shatters. Today, he falls apart again.

 

* * *

 

“You think they know we’re here?" 

Charlie and Dee stand frozen, a few inches ahead of the door, as they watch Mac and Rex make out against a wall in Paddy’s. There are paint chips in Rex’s hair. Okay. So this is happening.

“I don’t know, I don’t think so,” Dee whispers, eyes flitting around the room to see if—yep, and the four of them are the only people in the bar.

“What do we do?”

“You think they can hear us? I’m sick of the whispering thing.”

“I don’t want them to know we’re here though.”

Dee turns to look at Charlie. “Should we just leave?”

“But we came here to drink.”

“Okay. Wanna just... grab some beers, get in a booth, and hope they don’t see us?”

Tiptoeing, Dee and Charlie make their way behind the bar and grab as many beers as they can carry. It’s a very important operation and also an _essential_ operation—they don’t want to be making too many trips after all. Thankfully, Mac and Rex don’t notice them and they duck into the booth closest to the toilets. Dee’s starting to think that they won’t be noticed _at all,_ no matter what they do, but it’s still best not to take that risk. Interrupting Mac and Rex in the middle of a make out session could have _drastic_ consequences. Namely, a very awkward conversation.

Charlie and Dee drink in silence, and the kissing continues. Dee knows what Charlie is thinking, knows what his quiet yet deathly terrified face constitutes. Knows that the presence of free alcohol at Paddy’s has his hands tied. She knows what his current disposition represents, because she feels it all too. They’re both scared to death of Mac and Rex having sex in the bar and them having to listen. Because they’re both four beers in at this point, so there’s no going back now. Their laziness plus the number of beers they took from the bar makes it dangerous to leave because they might drop them, and they didn’t think about the possibility of Mac and Rex having sex in the bar until they were two or three beers in and thus more insightful.

Being this many beers in means that they have to keep going. You can’t just drink four beers and then decide to stop drinking beer. You either switch it up with scotch or you beer up till you drop! Everyone knows that. Okay, Dee just made that up, whatever. Either way, she’s too buzzed to move, and if they get all panicked and try to leave whilst hearing Mac and Rex fuck they’ll be interrupting sex, and not kissing, which is worse by all means.

So the best thing Charlie and Dee can do is drink and pray that kissing doesn’t lead to fucking.

In a fun turn of events, they soon realize that it probably wouldn’t be an issue if they left, because Dee accidentally pushes an empty beer bottle on the floor, watching in horror as it smashes to pieces. Charlie nearly yells at her but she points at him in reminder, reminding him that if he yells that would just make it worse. The following seconds where Mac and Rex still continue to make out allow them to see that the loud smashing did nothing to stop no one. Enter: a new consideration.

“Did they not hear that?”

“Charlie,” Dee says in her normal voice. “I don’t think they can hear or sense a thing we do. Either that or... they know we’re here and they just don’t care.”

“Wow,” Charlie enunciates, mouth moving widely just for that one word. “That’s crazy.”

“That is crazy.”

“How do they keep kissing? Like for so long?”

“Yeah. Kissing dudes gets so gross so quickly,” Dee utters in disgust.

“I know, right?” Charlie assents readily. “You wanna, just, like, order a pizza or something?”

“You read my mind.”

Charlie and Dee welcome the pizza delivery guy into the bar with open arms as he sets the boxes down on their table. Mac and Rex still don’t notice. They don’t care if they do at this point, they’re too buzzed and hungry.

“You two are the most uh... sociable customers I’ve had all day.”

“Haha yeah, sorry about that man. Dee and I here, we, we just haven’t gotten to talk to anyone else in so long!” He laughs amicably. “Feels like it’s been hours, man.”

Dee checks her phone. “Oh shit. It’s only been like, thirty minutes since we got here.”

“Thirty minutes? Are you kidding me? That’s it? I thought we spent all day in here.”

“Apparently not,” Dee starts pushing the pizza guy out the door, ignoring his repeated requests for a tip. “Whatever, let’s just eat.”

As if by some magic, such as the cosmic forces of narrative and plot, Mac and Rex stop making out and start talking instead when Dee and Charlie dig into their pizza.

“Mac, I can’t, I can’t keep doing this. I won’t do this anymore, bro. You’re into Dennis.” Rex wipes his mouth clean. “I can’t be making out with you if you have feelings for him, man.”

Mac scowls and backs away with his arms akimbo, huffing. “Come on, Rex. You saw what he said. You saw what he did to me.”

“Doesn’t mean you’re not still into him. Besides, I don’t think he meant like, any of that. You know what happened when you left? He was shaking. He dropped to the ground, I think his knees went all numb. The others had to hold him up and help him out the apartment.”

Dee and Charlie groan in between bites of pizza because while everything Rex is saying was true, Dennis regained like... his feelings? Or something? And he could walk on his own after a while and when he did he shoved the others away when they were only trying to help him like the asshole he always is. Charlie nearly fell. Dee _actually_ fell and scraped her elbow a bit.

“Oh.” Mac seems affected by this. “I mean, well,” he swallows, “he did... he did tell me he loved me. So you’re right, he didn’t really mean it that day, but, but when he told me all that yesterday I told him to fuck off!” he laughs humorlessly. “I told him to shove it, Rex, because I shouldn’t be with assholes like him, I should be with great guys like you! So let’s just, go on that date like you wanted to, man.”

“But he’s the one _you_ want, Mac,” Rex says, Mac’s words only driving home his point apparently. He gives him a few friendly taps on the shoulder. “Just be with who you want,” and he walks.

He sees Dee and Charlie as he leaves and waves. “Hey Dee, hey Charlie.”

“Bye, Rex.”

“See ya, Rex.”

They continue to eat pizza like nothing happened and that they weren’t just deathly scared of being seen by Mac and Rex in the bar mere minutes ago. Mac walks over to their booth and sits his ass down, grabbing a slice.

“I thought about Dennis the whole time,” he says abruptly after a minute of chewing. Dee and Charlie exchange a look and then look back at Mac. “His lips. The way he kisses me. It’s just, his, it feels better when he kisses me. I just like kissing Dennis more, and I don’t know why.” He clears his throat and dumps the crust of his pizza down. “Was it stupid of me to reject Dennis?”

“Uh.............”

“I mean, he definitely, like, deserved it and all that.”

Mac chews on his bottom lip and takes another slice. Then, without even taking a bite, he throws it down again and frowns. “Is me and Dennis dating even a good idea?”

“I don’t know, man,” replies Charlie as he absentmindedly licks off his fingers. Dee is glad he responded, because she’s not sure she knows how to. She doesn’t want to end up being wrong and getting blamed should something happen. “I guess... neither of you are the king of relationships or anything. But if you got together? Maybe we’d get more peace around here. And maybe Dennis wouldn’t be all like, jealous and shit whenever you talked to some dude.”

“I disagree,” Dee interjects with certainty. “I feel like Dennis would get even _more_ jealous. Both intensity and frequency wise.”

Mac has the most concerned look on his face. “What if we get together, but then we get into this huge fight, and, and it gets so bad that we break up, and the break up gets so bad we can’t even be friends anymore?”

“I guess that’s gonna be a... risk you’ll have to take?”

His breaths start coming in hard and fast. “Are we ready for that though? I mean, am I, am I even ready to be dating Dennis?”

The office door slams open and Frank walks out, wobbly and disoriented.

“Oh, Frank!”

“Hey, Frank. You were in there this whole time?”

“Yeah, I went in there to drink and fell asleep. Is that pizza?”

“Hell yeah, man! Come on, grab a piece, I’m getting kinda full.” He looks at Dee. “Is that the tapeworm medicine kicking in?”

“I think it is,” she says with a nod. “That quack doctor might not be so quack after all.”

 

* * *

_11:37 PM_

_On a Friday_

_Philadelphia, PA_

 

He can’t believe Mac has done this. Because seriously? Come on! Acting all high and mighty like he deserves the world. He deserves better than Dennis? Him? Mac? Unbelievable! He’s spent years slobbering over Dennis with the grace and subtlety of a Tommy Bahama shirt and he has the cheek, the _nerve_ to reject Dennis?

He’ll show him, he’ll show Mac who has the upper hand, who has the power in this relationship. He’ll make—he’ll make Mac regret being such a little bitch. He’s gonna take something Mac loves. Take _away_ something Mac loves, make it his, sully it for him and ruin it, punish him for hurting Dennis. For ruining him.

He smirks. He already knows what he’s gonna hit. He’s already walking into Mac’s room and reaching into his drawer for the lube. That dreaded ‘workout bike’. Today, Dennis thinks, as he opens himself up with slick fingers, he’ll see what Mac likes so much about it.

Dennis groans as he slides himself onto it. There’s something exciting and wild about being where Mac has been before, getting fucked by what Mac’s been fucked by before. Maybe that’s why Mac used to sleep with every girl Dennis nailed. That was the only thing he could find hot about the sex—the way they were related to Dennis. Getting fucked by the fist penis, or fenis, if you will, is an experience almost out of this world. Of course, it can’t be compared to Mac, and having to do much of the work makes the experience less mind-blowing as compared to getting pinned down and pounded by Mac, manhandled like a rag doll.

Dennis still makes it work, makes it feel good the way he can always do for himself. Yes, he doesn’t need Mac at all. It’s ironic to say this seeing how he’s literally pedaling a cock machine of Mac’s creation, but you get his point. He doesn’t need Mac. He just needs to pedal. If only Mac could see him now.

And see him he does. Suddenly, Mac’s barging into the room and flustered by the whole situation.

“Dennis, what, what the hell are you doing?”

Dennis reaches into his pocket and points a gun at Mac. How he managed to get his hands on that gun is confusing but irrelevant, and he’s not questioning it right now.

_“God said it’s my turn on the dildo bike.”_

 

* * *

 

Dennis wakes up to the echo of gunshots ringing in his ears, air forcing its way into his lungs like he hasn’t been breathing all night—what in the holy hell was that? He knew he was mad at Mac for being an asshole and walking out and all that but man did his anger manifest in a weird way.

He hears some rummaging and movement about the apartment and he rubs the sleep out his eyes. Is that Mac? Is Mac back? Great. He probably realized he was being an idiot and came back to apologize. Which is the perfect set up for Dennis to get revenge. No more emotional vulnerability for him. He’s gonna make sure he has Mac in the palm of his hand and that he’ll never be in a position where Mac can hurt him. He’s gonna make sure Mac never fully knows how he feels again, play it hot and cold, push and pull–

Oh. Never mind. It’s not Mac, it’s Charlie.

“Charlie, what the hell are you doing here? And how’d you get in?”

“What do you mean, dude? I’ve had your key for ages. I mean, how else did I get in during the Super Bowl and trash all of Mac’s shit?”

Charlie’s laughing at whatever he’s reminiscing right now, but Dennis is just dead confused. And also, kind of annoyed that he’s not Mac.

“I have no idea what you’re talking about. You don’t live here, you shouldn’t have a key.”

“Aw, who cares, man! We gotta get down to the bar! The parade’s starting soon!”

“What?” Dennis scoffs. “What parade?”

“Dude! The gay parade, man. The Philadelphia Pride Parade that we’re in?”

“Doesn’t ring a bell,” Dennis is pretty sure all these plans were made without consulting him, and he doesn’t have time to be gay right now. “And so what? Who said I wanted to watch a dumb parade?”

Charlie rolls his eyes. “I don’t care if you wanna watch the parade or not! You’re driving the float, dude!”

“I’m _driving_ the float?”

“Yeah! And Mac will be doing his uh, his sexy gay dance thing and Dee and I are selling drinks.”

Dennis makes a face. “Why are Dee and you in charge of selling drinks? I’m the bartender.”

“I can’t drive, Dennis.”

“I know that! But what about Dee? She’d be more useful driving than doing anything else at all. The woman can’t mix a drink to save her life!”

“Then we won’t sell cocktails! Besides, we need Dee on the float. Can’t have a gay float with no lesbians, man, the press’ll murder us!”

“Dee’s not a–“ Dennis ponders this for a moment–“actually, you know what, forget I said anything.”

“Okay, cool, let’s move–“

“No.”

“No?”

Dennis shakes his head. “No. I’m not going anywhere. I’m not driving the float.”

Charlie deflates in a very intense bout of frustration. “Oh my god. You gotta be kidding me dude. Why the hell not?”

Would saying that he’s just not in the mood suffice? Would saying that he doesn’t want to drive a float that Mac’s dancing on top of being excuse enough? Would admitting how much pain he’s feeling be convincing enough to get him out of this? Perhaps not.

“I’m uh... I’m claustrophobic.”

Charlie falls to the ground, limbs spread out. “Dennis. Dude. I’ve known you over twenty years. This is the first I’ve heard of you being claustrophobic! The hell is going on, man? Besides, you’ve never driven the float before, you’ve never even seen the goddamn thing, how the hell do you know it’s gonna make you claustrophobic and shit?”

Dennis shrugs. “I don’t know what to tell you, man.”

Charlie gets up. “Whatever, man. It’s cool. I’ll get Frank to drive or something.”

“Yeah. I’ll see you guys after the parade. Maybe I’ll run the bar for a while, make us some money.”

“Sure, yeah, whatever, bro,” and then he’s out the door.

 

* * *

 

They’re covered in glitter when they return to the bar. Dee and Charlie, of course, and for some weird reason, Cricket’s with them too. Cricket is drenched in glitter. Dennis listens to them groan about how hellish returning the float after the parade was, and pours them all a drink, watching as they drink it in desolation.

He nearly considers asking them how the parade went, how was Mac’s dance, but then the door opens and in come Mac and Frank. Mac’s... drenched. He’s completely wet, and he looks like he’s been through ten marathons but there’s something so goddamn irresistible about him. However, there’s also something off about Mac. He looks raw, unzipped. Frank is a complete mess altogether. He’s clearly been crying, bawling his eyes out even, and whether he’s stopped crying at all is highly debatable. Mac and Frank are side hugging almost, and Frank seems to really be clinging on to Mac. It’s clear that everyone in the room is confused by this.

“Frank, you gonna be okay?” Frank nods, and it’s one of the most vulnerable moments Dennis has ever seen his not-father father be in. He doesn’t know how to feel about that. “Okay,” Mac taps Frank reassuringly on the shoulder. “I’m gonna go shower.”

Frank wipes his tears away and nods as Mac leaves. It’s silent for a while.

“Frank... what the hell happened man?”

Frank bursts into tears again. No one, _no one_ is expecting this from him. But judging by how wet Mac was he supposes it had something to do with his dance. And given how only Frank is affected by it, he’s certain Mac probably refused to dance on the float (like how Dennis refused to drive the float, he’s not surprised Mac copied him, he even expects it at this point) and decided to go perform it for his dad in prison? Like he had intended to in the first place? Which explains why Frank tagged along. Only he would have the right means to finance that scheme. Dennis figures it went horribly wrong and Mac’s dad was a piece of shit about the whole thing. But that doesn’t explain why Frank would cry. What happened? What about Mac’s dance caused this?

Charlie gets really worried and hugs the old man, rubbing him on the back and trying to coax more answers from him. Frank hands them a video clip. Apparently, he’d pulled it from the surveillance cameras pointed directly at the stage.

The next five minutes has everyone in tears.

Dennis doesn’t know what to take away from this. But he feels, oh he _feels_ alright. He feels like he’s getting hit multiple times, with a different word at every turn. _Asshole. Jerk. Idiot._ He gets hit with feelings. _Guilt. Shame. Inconsideration._ He doesn’t know if being inconsiderate constitutes a feeling or an emotion, but he feels like he’s been very inconsiderate towards Mac. Mac, who would catch him if he fell, Mac, who he refused to forgive for being lost and misguided in his feelings just _once_ compared to Dennis’ hundred. Mac, who deserves a win for once. Mac, who deserves a win from Dennis. Mac, who deserves to know that he matters, that Dennis cares.

“We have to do it again.”

“Huh?”

“Do what again, Dennis?”

Suddenly, the bathroom door opens and out walks Cricket. Apparently, he had been in there for some unknown duration.

“Hey, can I leave now? This all feels like it’s getting heavy and, I think there’s some leftover food scraps from the parade. Don’t wanna be late–“

“No one asked you to stay, Cricket.” And just like that, he’s out the door.

“We need to do the gay parade float thing again,” Dennis says, pumped up. “We have to, to drive around the city and be gay again. We have to be gay for Mac.”

“Uh, dude. We already did all that. Like earlier today.”

“We _literally_ just came back from doing _exactly_ that, Dennis.”

Dennis doesn’t lose his bravado. “Yes, but it sucked, so we’re doing it again.”

“You weren’t even there!”

“My point exactly.”

 

* * *

 

Dennis returns from the bar after a very rushed planning session, back home. Back to Mac. He drops his keys on the counter and watches as the love of his life emerges from the shower, adorned in dark comfy sweatpants that hang below his waist, shirtless and not ashamed of it, obviously, toweling his hair dry as he walks into the living room.

His face falters when he sees Dennis and he hates that. He hates appearing before Mac and making him frown rather than smile. He misses his smiles. They could fix everything that’s ever been wrong with Dennis, even if only for a minute.

“Mac,” he says, the word hanging in the air like mistletoe, looking deep into Mac’s eyes and without words, he begs, _please see me, see me how I see you and love me once more._

Mac doesn’t look away, and Dennis walks straight up to him. He encircles his lower back and breathes in a soft kiss. An understanding kiss, a kiss with more meaning than Dennis could ever muster in a verbal sense. A single kiss, and he presses it against Mac’s lips, without the expectation of receiving anything in return. Of the two of them, Dennis is the clear atheist, but he prays to Mac and hopes he listens. Senses his sincerity. His apology. His request.

Mac kisses back. He kisses back, his arms reaching to hoist Dennis up just slightly, he deepens the kiss, and they taste true ecstasy. Dennis lets out an unadulterated moan, his mind spinning as he inhales Mac, feels his skin against him, warm and sturdy and familiar yet so new. He drags Mac to their room and whispers “I’ll make it good for you”.

He makes good on his promise and Mac is putty in his hands. He watches Mac lie in bed, his head between his thighs and his lips wrapped around his favorite cock. Then again, it’s the only one that Dennis has ever sucked, gave his life (and throat) into pleasuring. Mac comes in a series of curses and swears which Dennis rides and thrives on. He holds on tight to Mac’s knees and presses him into the mattress until he goes still and Mac is pulling Dennis up to him and rewarding his face with kisses, and reaching for his erection.

“No,” Dennis pushes his hand away. “I’m good. Not today. Today is about you.”

“But–“ he points at Dennis’ arousal–“it–“

“I know, I know,” he hushes Mac with sloppy smooches. “It’ll settle down soon enough. And if it doesn’t... I can take care of myself.”

“But I like taking care of you,” Mac says, almost insistent and needy. His fingers ghost over where Dennis is most sensitive and he just about nearly gives in.

“I know,” he relents. “You can do that some other time.” He strokes Mac’s cheek as he clutches it in his hand. “I want to make you... so happy,” the words don’t feel unnatural so much as they feel new. Never before said. Perhaps once or twice as a line to some girl whose face he wouldn’t remember. But with every syllable he enunciates, he grows more and more certain that this isn’t a sweet nothing. This is the realest thing he’s ever experienced. The most tender thing he’s let himself be a part of.

“You already are, man. I love you.”

“I love you too. I have a... surprise for you.”

Mac raises his eyebrow. “Right now? Where?”

Dennis pushes him back down on the bed with him. “Not now, idiot. You’ll see.”

 

* * *

 

Mac laughs with pure joy when he steps out the bar come morning. His face is almost exactly the way Dennis imagined it’d be. Bright, his eyes twinkling.

“So this was the surprise?”

“Dennis put us all up to it,” Dee complains. “It was very annoying,” she stops talking once Dennis gives her a warning look, but she’s already said her piece, so she definitely doesn’t stop talking out of fear.

“It’s great, man.” Mac gets closer to the float. “What are we celebrating?”

“You.” Dennis pulls Mac up to the float with him. “May I have this dance?”

“ _May I_ pick the music?” Mac retorts playfully and mockingly.

“I’m trying to be romantic, you asshole.”

“I know,” he pulls Dennis in and whispers “ _thank you,”_ before kissing him on the cheek.

That day, the streets of Philadelphia feel happier.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> hi! this is the technical conclusion to this story, but next chapter will still be important-ish to the plot and hopefully you'll all like it and find it fun!!! 
> 
> hope you liked this chapter? i had so much fun writing this story and ch8 has been really fun to write too, see u next chapter! feel free to leave me a comment or drop an ask in my tumblr inbox! im globrights on tumblr!! love u bbs <3


	8. some of them want to abuse you, some of them want to be abused

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> before you read this chapter, please do me a favor and watch this short clip: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=C77zhAfJ7DA it's important. most of you have probably seen it, especially if you follow my tumblr, globrights, but i don't wanna take any chances

“What the hell was that, dude?” 

“What the hell was what?”

“Back there,” Mac shuts the door. “At the bar. When we were discussing the Halloween Costume Party Contest Scheme, you made it seem like _you_ were gonna be the rigged winner.”

Dennis is on the couch, sat with one leg crossed over the other. “And? What’s wrong with that?”

Mac looks away and at the ground. “I thought we agreed that I was gonna win.”

“Oh, Mac–“ Dennis gets up and caresses him gently on the arm–“that was before. Things are different now. And I think we all, all of us, the gang—we all agreed that _I’m_ the best candidate for fake winner of our Halloween Costume Party Contest Scheme. The most _believable_.”

Mac scoffs. “No one said that.”

“It was implied.”

“This is bullshit–“ Mac points at Dennis–“I should be the winner. You’re always telling me how hot I am!”

“Well–“ Dennis huffs, great, now Mac’s gone and gotten him all annoyed–“that’s, that’s only because I’m trying to get you all, you know, riled up to fuck me!”

“ _Oh_ ,” Mac is being so fucking dramatic about this, “so you don’t, actually think I’m hot?”

“Whether you’re hot has nothing to do with this! I’m the looks, you said so yourself.”

“So I’m _not_ hot?” Mac crosses his arms. Oh god, those fucking arms. They could hold Dennis down and render him more helpless than any pair of handcuffs ever could. “Okay. You can go fuck _yourself_ tonight!”

Jesus Christ. What a fucking asshole. Dennis hates how well it works on him. “Fine! Maybe I will go fuck myself. Or I’ll get someone _else_ to fuck me.” He smiles sinister and sweet as he says this, inching closer to Mac. “How would you like that?”

Mac shoves him against the wall with a passionate kiss in response. Dennis meets him with an equal fury and they kiss, like they always do, like there’s a fire in them they can’t put out. Mac drags his fingers torturously up Dennis’ back and words cannot describe how much he loves those hands of Mac. They could break and bury a man and Dennis would let that man be him.

“You think you’re so great, huh?” Dennis taunts in between hasty kisses. “Big old service top thinks he can fill up best costume shoes.”

“Don’t know about that,” he rasps, “Know I fill you up pretty good though.”

“Oh yeah?” Dennis licks his lips. “Come prove it, big boy.”

 

* * *

 

“Halloween _Couples_ Costume Party Contest Scheme,” Dennis titters before downing his drink. “I’m glad we worked that one out.”

“Yeah,” Mac assents with a tender smile. “And everyone’s gonna believe we won, our costumes are awesome.”

The awesome costumes in question are Sexy Mario and Sexy Luigi. So, yes, it’s costumes they already had but they made some parts of the costumes leather and made the whole thing more skin hugging overall. Hence the Sexy Mario and the Sexy Luigi.

“Gather around, everyone,” Artemis announces with that usual gravitas she has. “As you all know, the time to announce winners of the Halloween Couples Costume Contest is drawing near. Everyone is to hurry up and cast your votes now if you haven’t, or forever hold your peace.”

Mac grabs hold of Dennis’ hand and grins, clearly excited to win even though they rigged the whole thing. But if he’s being honest, Dennis is just as excited as Mac is. He sneaks a quick kiss against his cheek before looking back up at Artemis.

“Have the ballots all been accounted for?” Artemis asks Dee, who nods and whispers something in her ear. It’s the winners’ names, obviously, and Mac and Dennis’ names, obviously. Mac and Dennis stuffed like fifty ballots into the box. It doesn’t matter how many people vote for anyone else, _they’re winning._

“And the winners are... Rex and John as Indiana Jones and Indiana Jones!”

“What?!” Mac and Dennis look at each other in absolute shock.

“What the hell is going on?” Dennis throws down Mac’s hand in anger and watches as Rex and Economy John walk their cheating, cheating asses up on stage. That’s just, that’s just not right. It should be _their_ cheating asses that are walking up on stage right now!

“Sup,” Rex greets, “thanks for letting us win you guys, but I have to take this time to ask John something,” he proceeds to get down on one knee. Oh no. Oh, he _cannot_ be doing this right now! “John, I love you man. You’re the love of my life. Will you marry me?”

Dennis sees Economy John nod his head readily and say a series of words that he has blocked out by now because his head is filling with rage, he feels Mac grab him steady and realizes his fist is clenched, shaking. Mac looks just a tad bit worried for him, but mostly also angry at the situation. This was supposed to be their night! They were supposed to win their rigged contest, they were supposed to rub it in everyone’s faces, and _they_ were supposed to have celebratory sex when they got home!

Instead, their moments have been stolen by some beta male couple, a pathetic couple, one with the likes of Rex and Economy John. Well, Dennis supposes that Economy John is okay, but he’s not sure he likes the idea of him being around the gang. How did he get here anyway? When did he get here? Dennis had no idea he was even at his party.

Either way, Dennis calms down. He does it for Mac, he does it for himself, and he does it to give off a cool appearance for right now, as Rex and Economy John make their way down the stage and up to Mac and Dennis, apparently now done with whatever crap they were doing up on stage.

(Yeah. They set up a fucking _stage_. Only to get it stolen from—you know what? Never mind. Dennis is not doing this right now.)

“Cool... cool proposal, guys.” Mac still looks suspicious. “Congrats on winning. How’d you manage that?”

“Hey, we’re sorry about that. I heard from Dee that uh, you two were a favorite to win. But I,” he beams at Economy John, “really wanted to propose to John in a special way. So she agreed to let us win if I didn’t take the cash prize. That prize belongs to you two.”

Dennis grits his teeth. “Right. But, all that aside, I didn’t even know the two of you were dating. How did this happen?”

Economy John chortles. “Oh, that was, that all started the night you invited us both out to dinner. All four of us were at Guigino’s, remember?”

“Nope.”

“Doesn’t ring a bell.”

“It was a Thursday?” offers Rex.

“That would _definitely_ not help me.”

“We were,” Economy John tries, “we were all having dinner but you two went to the bathroom and never came back?”

“Oh yeah!”

“I remember that now,” Dennis looks at Mac. “We were trying to make each other jealous that day. Then we got into a fight and banged it out in the men’s room, remember?”

“And after that, we sneaked out the back door and went home!” Mac snickers excitedly as he points at Dennis in reminiscence. “And then they had to–“

“Pay for your very expensive steaks, yes.” Economy John gives them a hard smile. “But don’t worry about that. While we were waiting for the two of you to get back, we had a great time. Talking–“

“And laughing–“

“We fell in love. So to speak.”

“So yeah. Thanks dudes. I have a fiancé now. Am I saying that right?”

“Yes, babe,” assures Economy John. “You are.”

 

* * *

 

The next day, Mac and Dennis are still pretty pissed about the whole ordeal.

“Halloween night was supposed to be our night,” Dennis sighs harshly as he clambers up the bar stool. “How dare they!”

“The angry sex we had that night was pretty good though,” Mac shrugs.

“Oh yeah. So good. Mm.” Dennis hums and shuts his eyes for a blissful second. “And hey, for once, we weren’t angry boning because we were mad at each other. This time it was someone else.”

“Oh yeah.” Mac slowly nods. “ _Kinda_ liked it better when we were mad at each other though.”

“Right. Yeah,” Dennis looks enticingly at Mac. “Me too.”

He slides his hand up Dennis’ thigh and it makes him shiver. “Get mad at me, Den.”

“Oh come on,” Dennis covers Mac’s hand with his own, before slowly removing it and letting himself calm down. “It’s not gonna be fun if we fake it.”

At that very moment, Dee walks in. “Ooh, trouble in paradise?” she cackles loudly at her own joke and Mac and Dennis scowl at her. “What? What’s up?”

“You know,” Mac turns to look at Dennis. “This is all her fault.”

“What’s my fault?”

“Yes, Mac.” Dennis agrees. “Dee, this is all your fault, you bitch. Why did you let Rex and Economy John win?”

Dee makes a face. “Economy John? Isn’t his name just John? Why are you calling him that, you idiot?”

“That’s not the point–“

“Actually,” Mac jumps in. “That’s confusing the heck out of me too. What’s with that?”

“I call him Economy John because, well, I mean, he—he has a good economy face, okay?”

“Now what the hell is _that_ supposed to mean?!” Oh goddamn it. Now Mac’s all pissed. “You think he’s hot or something? Oh, I knew you were lying in–“

“Dee, why the hell did you let Rex and John win?” Dennis chides angrily to ignore and hopefully distract Mac from his anger. At the same time, he hopes to get some answers from Dee. Because really, her letting them win instead of Mac and Dennis (like they had all agreed upon) is a stupid bitchy thing to do. It’s a stupid bitch move, is what it is.

“They said they weren’t going to take the cash prize!” Dee retorts. “We still made all the money we wanted to make from the contest entry fees, and Rex paid me fifty bucks, so when you think about it, I actually helped us make _more_ money by letting them win! The two of you only wanted to win as some like, big ego stroke, or–"

“Oh, and you didn’t think to tell us that? Didn’t think to _share_ the money?”

Dee looks like she’s just been caught in a secret she’d been trying to hide.

“Yeah, Dee. Cough up the fifty. That money should be ours anyway.”

Dee gasps. “What? No! I took the bribe, the money’s mine!”

“Yeah, and no one said they were okay with you taking that bribe, Dee. So that _sweet_ dough belongs in our _sweet_ pockets. Fork it over.”

“Honestly, I’m cool with Dee taking that bribe and all,” pipes up Charlie as he emerges from the bathroom. “As long as she splits it up equally. Among all of us.”

“What? No way!”

“I mean,” Mac gives Dennis an endearing look. “That does give us ten bucks each. It’s a pretty sweet deal.”

“I know, Mac, but I’d rather get us both the whole fifty dollars. Imagine what we could do with that kind of money.”

Mac’s eyes widen. “Aw, crap. You’re right.”

“Of course I am,” Dennis turns to look at the other two. “Mac and I will get all the money or no one gets anything.”

“None of you bozos _should_ be getting anything,” Dee squawks on like the bird she is. “Because I took the stupid bribe. Which means that stupid money’s mine! Back off, boners.”

Charlie shrugs, ignoring Dee’s impending breakdown. “I still think we should all split the money, man.”

“Hmm,” Dennis smacks his lips. “We appear to be at some sort of a stalemate.”

Frank comes in through the front door with lunch at that moment. Sandwiches from their favorite place. The ones they like from the Wawa.

“Hey Frank—can you settle a score for us?”

 

* * *

 

“Goddamn it,” Dennis groans as he sits down. They’re back at the arbitration place again. “I can’t believe how much that issue blew up. How is this even a point of contention? Mac and I deserve the money.”

“God, dude, shut up. We aren’t supposed to talk unless we’re explaining what happened to the arbiter lady, man, we talked about this.”

“Well, we wouldn’t even need to be here if Frank didn’t insert himself into our fight and try to get part of the money,” Mac sensibly argues, prompting Dennis to gesture to him in support of this point.

“Don’t put that on me,” argues Frank. “You’re the one who wanted to do the ‘real’ arbitration thing again. And besides, I deserve that money,” he appeals to their arbiter. “I financed that whole scheme. So, any money made in that whole process belongs to me.”

“What? Frank, that is nonsense! You didn’t finance shit, the only thing we spent any money on was the booze from the bar, which we get from suppliers, not you!”

“And the stage, don’t forget about the stage—the stage that _I_ paid for.”

“That stage was from storage and you know it!”

“And why was it in storage? Because I bought that thing at some point for some other old scheme!”

“You can’t prove that!” yells Dee.

“Okay, okay,” soothes the arbiter, in an attempt to settle them down. “I’m getting a little lost here. Let’s start from the top, please.”

“Oh, okay,” says Mac. “So we were at our buddy Rex’s place helping him move in, and we found this dope ass Indiana Jones costume that he has, like, it’s really good, looks great on–“

“Shut up about the costume and move on, Mac,” Dennis warns.

“Right. Anyway, while I was trying the costume on, I got this dope idea for the Halloween scheme. So, that fifty bucks is mine.”

“Wait,” Dennis turns warily to Mac. “By ‘mine’ you mean both of us, right?”

“Why would I mean both of us?”

“Because if you don’t mean the both of us, Mac,” his hand slides dangerously up Mac’s inner thigh, “there would be consequences.”

“Uh, I mean, by ‘mine’ I mean me and Dennis.”

Dennis nods and withdraws his touch. “Yes. Mac came up with the idea and I developed it into the scheme that we did. Therefore, that money’s ours, and we’ll be taking it, thank you very much–“

Dennis reaches for the fifty in the center of the table but Dee swats his hand away. “Fuck off. That money’s not yours until she says it is. Besides, neither of you came up with the costume contest scheme. I did.”

“What?”

“What the hell, Dee! You weren’t even in the room when we came up with the whole thing.”

“No,” Charlie shakes his head. “No, I think that was, like, my idea.”

“And I’m the one who suggested we make the costume party thing a scheme, so I’m taking credit–“

“Mac and I clearly came up with the whole thing! The rest of you are liars and imbeciles! Liars and imbeciles!”

“But there’s no way you can prove that, asshole,” Dee smirks. She knew what she was doing all along, the scheming bitch. That lawless criminal.

“Okay,” their arbiter creases her forehead and presses her fingers onto it. “Yes, Miss Reynolds is right. Do either of you have proof for this?”

“Well, no, but—we are corroborating each other’s claims. Shouldn’t that count for something?”

“Not if you’re fighting for the same thing,” Dee argues. “There’s a conflict of interest there.”

“Yeah,” Charlie agrees. “They’ve been butt fucking for months, man, they got some new gross connection now, and they, like, they do it everywhere, it’s gross as shit.”

“Woah!” Mac and Dennis sit up, offended.

“Dude, that sounds hella homophobic.”

“I’m not being homophobic!”

“Think what Charlie’s trying to say, is that we find it gross no matter _who_ either of you are choosing to bang over every surface of everywhere—I mean—you guys were in the back office the other day.” Dee huffs. “Frank can’t go in there anymore because of what you did.”

“Yeah! And they were in the nice bathroom the other day too, when I was in the other stall! I had to cover my ears the whole time, I don’t think I’ll ever be the same in there again.”

“Where’d you expect us to bang, in the shitty bathroom?”

“Also, Charlie, why didn’t you just say you were in there or something?”

“Would that have stopped you?”

“Good question.”

“Can we focus up here?” calls the arbiter. “Okay, I think we’ve established that due to the, the nature of Mr Reynolds and Mr McDonald’s relationship, their words are not enough to corroborate each other’s statements.”

“Thank you!”

Mac and Dennis groan.

“Can we continue? I would like each of you to state your demands.”

“Well, that’s easy. Frank wants all the money, Dee wants all the money, Mac and Dennis want all the money to themselves, but I’m the only one, who wants it split up equally! So, think it’s obvious who’s right here.”

Their arbiter nods. “That does sound logical–“

“But that doesn’t mean it’s _fair_ ,” argues Dee. “Charlie didn’t do anything, anything at all to deserve any part of this money! So he’s just trying to get ten bucks for free! And I’m not walking away from this room with only ten bucks.”

“Fine!” Charlie throws up his hands in frustration. “Then we’ll split it four ways, and since Mac and Dennis are like, one stupid sex blob now, they can _share_ their quarter of the fifty bucks, just like they share, I dunno, orgasms and shit. So we each get...”

“$12.50,” Dee says without blinking. “Which–“

“Woah woah woah, Mac and I aren’t gonna _share_ $12.50. The most we’re going to agree on is a fifty-fifty split with Dee over the fifty bucks! So we aren’t leaving this place with less than $25.”

The arbiter bites her lip. “I’m sorry, but is there anything on the table _aside_ from the fifty dollars?”

“No.”

“I mean, I guess there’s a matter of pride too, but really, it’s mostly about the cash.”

She clears her throat. “Then I don’t understand why you’re holding this arbitration. You’ll be losing more money than you’re trying to make because of the bill.”

“Oh. Right.”

“Shouldn’t this arbitration be free? I mean, we kind of paid for three arbiters the last time we were here.”

“Yeah,” Frank chimes in. “Don’t y’all have like a buy three get one free kinda deal?”

The arbiter shakes her head. “No, Mr Reynolds. I regret to inform you that.”

They all go quiet for a second.

“Well,” Charlie begins. “I mean, Frank handles the money stuff, right?”

Everyone looks at him.

“Uh uh.” Frank shakes his head. “I’m not paying unless that fifty’s mine.”

“Oh,” says Dennis. “So if we give you the fifty bucks, you’ll pay for the arbitration?”

“Yeah.”

“We’ve reached a compromise!” announces Mac, standing up.

“No, wait wait wait—no way! The fifty bucks was mine to begin with, you can’t just _give it_ to Frank–“

“Oh, did you want to pay the bill, Dee? Because that can be easily arranged.”

“Of course I don’t wanna pay for the damn arbitration, I didn’t _want_ to do the stupid official arbitration again in the first place! I was against it at our sub-arbitration earlier!”

“But... you are here, which means you technically agreed to holding an arbitration, which means if you don’t give Frank that money, you’re paying for this whole thing.”

Dee takes a deep breath, and averts her gaze. “Frank, the money’s yours,” she says quietly.

 

* * *

 

Dee picks up a small bowl of chili—apparently made by Economy John’s maid of honor—yeah, she calls him Economy John now too. Dennis made it catch on somehow. Anyway, Dee’s determined to get as many free wedding gifts and free food as she can mooch off this whole event. It’s the least this wedding could do to reimburse her of the fifty bucks she lost. She still remembers that shit 

If she’s being honest, Rex and Economy John are the reason why she had fifty dollars in the first place, and Mac and Dennis are the reason why it got taken away. But then again, Mac and Dennis are the reason why Rex and Economy John got together—you know what? This is getting way too confusing. Dee just wants to be reimbursed, and she doesn’t care who she gets reparations from. Hence, the taking of free gifts and free food from this wedding. She’s already got three gift bags stuffed in her purse, and this is, quite honestly, her second bowl of chili. But the bowls are really small, and the chili’s really good, so, you can’t really blame her.

“Hey, you tried the soup yet?” Charlie asks as he walks by Dee with a bowl of soup in hand. A gift bag sticks very clearly out his pocket, it’s obvious he’s stuffed all the pockets he has deep with those things. “Aw man, you’re eating chili? Dee, chili makes you fart a shit ton.”

“Yeah, stop eating that, Deandra.” Frank appears on her other side. “Here, have this hotdog instead. They’re good,” he offers. Frank’s shirt pocket is stuffed with sausages. Dee sighs and moves to the huge plate of sausages to get her own sausage. She takes a bite into one. Frank was right, they are pretty good.

“Um, excuse me, you three?” An annoying looking usher appears from behind. “The ceremony’s about to start.”

“Cool it, lady. We’re coming,” Frank grabs a few more sausages for his pocket and heads to the pews. Dee and Charlie follow him and they all sit in the row behind Mac and Dennis.

“We are all gathered here today to witness the union of–“

Dee trails off and doesn’t listen to any of that. Doesn’t hear the last names of Rex and Economy John, doesn’t listen to whatever bullshit tear-jerking vows they say to each other. Then the whoever that’s officiating the wedding pronounces Rex and Economy John husbands, and everyone claps, and—oh what’s this now? Dennis is making noise and standing up and now everyone is looking at him. Dee decides to listen up. This could be good.

“Yes, yes,” says Dennis. “I’m sure we’re all very happy for the two grooms and their being married and... whatever. But I have a very important question to ask my boyfriend Mac.”

Oh no. This isn’t what Dee thinks it is, is it?

Mac stands up and Dennis gets on one knee. Goddamn it. Seriously? They’re doing this here?

“Mac. I have loved you all my life, or, well, ever since we’ve known each other. I don’t think I could live without you.” Okay, at least that part’s true. “And I don’t think I should ever have to. I love you, Mac. Will you marry me?”

“You kidding me, dude? Hell yes!”

Mac pulls Dennis up and they kiss to a crowd that nervously applauds at first until they see both grooms clapping and smiling, and soon the applause becomes a standing ovation, and only Dee, Charlie, and Frank have skeptical looks on their faces. They have no idea what Mac and Dennis' play is here, and Dee's not sure she even wants to find out.

 

* * *

 

"Hey, what the hell was that?"

"Oh, you mean our awesome proposal? Yeah," Dennis smirks at Mac. "Had to do that to get back at those two. You know, for showing us up at Halloween. They ruined our night, so we decided to ruin the best day of their lives!"

Mac and Dennis high five, and Charlie shrugs. "I mean, doesn't really look like you ruined anything."

"Yeah," Dee assents. "They looked really happy for you guys. In fact, here they come now–“

“What? Oh–“ Dennis turns around to get Rex and Economy John all up in his face–“uh, hi.”

“Hey, guys! Congrats on the engagement, we’re so happy for you!”

“Oh,” Mac scrunches his forehead. “Really?”

“Yeah, of course! We found love because of the two of you, so it’s only right that you proposed at our wedding.”

“Yes,” Dennis looks wary. What’s going on? This has to be a trick. There’s no way they’re actually chill with all this. Maybe he just needs to rub it in a little more. “I did propose to Mac like, right after your vows though."

“Oh, we don’t care about that. We’re married!”

“Yeah,” Economy John smiles at Rex. “Can’t wait for our honeymoon. Anyway, it was nice seeing you guys. Thanks for coming to our wedding.”

“Not a problem,” Dennis says between his clenched teeth, and the married couple leaves.

“Okay,” Mac huffs. “That didn’t feel like revenge. What should we do now?”

Dee grins. Oh no. “I know what we should do. Fake wedding for free wedding gifts scheme.”

Charlie’s eyes widen. “Oh, that’s good!”

Frank nods. “I like the sound of that, Deandra. What’s the plan?”

Just like that, Mac and Dennis’ now _fake_ wedding is stolen from them.

 

* * *

 

The wedding planning goes over smoothly, more or less. They decide to hold the ceremony in the bar, and send out invitations to all the people they know with deep pockets, as well as people they _don’t_ know with even _deeper_ pockets. Frank provided them with some useful contacts and addresses. Apparently, some rich people just send gifts in response to any wedding invitation they get just in case they’ve met the betrothed before. It’s an awesome scheme they enjoyed even without having to do the wedding.

They pick flowers. They choose matching tuxedos that Frank buys for them. Artemis volunteers to officiate the wedding. Mac and Dennis briefly argue over who gets Charlie as their best man and who gets stuck with Dee as their maid-of-honor, coming quickly enough to the consensus that they both share Charlie and Dee as their respective best man and maid-of-honor, balancing burden and reward. Dee changes her mind and decides that she wants to be a flower girl instead and toss flower petals at their guests. Charlie reveals that he has no idea what the point of him being best man would be anyway.

“I wanna be like, the ring bearer,” he says.

“We’re not doing rings,” Dennis reminds. “It’s an unnecessary expense for the scheme and besides, Mac would lose the ring–“ he side-eyes his fiancé–“he’s already lost his engagement ring, if anyone’s wondering.”

“In my defense,” Mac argues. “That ring cost you a dollar.”

“Actually, it cost me nothing at all,” retorts Dennis. “I stole it from a flea market. Why pay for a shitty ring that looks like something I could’ve made myself?”

Mac scoffs, crossing his arms. “Then why’d you get the shitty ring? Maybe I wouldn’t have lost it if it actually _cost_ something.”

“Oh, don’t make this about me, Mac. This is about how _you_ can’t even keep a _ring_ around your stupid finger!”

“You’ve gotta be kidding me dude! I probably lost the damn thing after taking it off because I had to put my finger up your–“

“Oh my god, shut up, shut the fuck up!” Charlie yells, scarred. “Forget the stupid ring thing, I’m not doing it, I’ll do the best man crap, whatever the hell that is.”

“Charlie, being best man means that you’re in charge of making sure the wedding goes smoothly. So, if someone not invited shows up, you’re taking them down. If someone creates a disturbance, you’re taking them down. If someone–“

“Stop, stop stop stop–“ Charlie covers his face with his hands–“oh my god. That’s gonna be so stressful. That sounds hard as shit, dude. Although, I mean, is anyone even gonna want to create a disturbance at the wedding?”

Dennis shrugs. “Well, you never know with these things. Scorned lovers, someone rushing in to object at the last minute. I believe you’ve seen movies.”

“Yeah, but who’s gonna wanna object to _our_ wedding, man?”

“I don’t know,” Dennis huffs. “Your lack of confidence in that scenario happening is starting to piss me off. I mean, who wouldn’t be devastated to know that Dennis Reynolds is off the market? I’m sure, I’m sure _Maureen_ at least would–“

“Maureen’s dead, dude.”

“Oh. Right. Kind of forgot about that. Huh.”

“So... being Best Man isn’t that hard?”

Mac shrugs. “Should be a walk in the park, my dude.”

“Alright! Let’s do this wedding!”

So yes, as you can see, it all seems pretty solid and easy going. Any little disputes and arguments are more or less easily resolved... until they hit a snag with the dressing room dispute. Or, if you’re feeling fancy, Bathroom Problem 2: Electric Boogaloo.

 

* * *

 

“Hey losers, check out my flower petal dispenser–“ Dee excitedly enters the bar holding what is essentially a fake snow blaster that she’s emptied and filled to the brim with flower petals–“I’m gonna go nuts on the guests with this.”

“My tuxedo is incredibly delicate, Dennis, I need the cleaner space to make sure nothing happens to it–“

“Mac, we have the same tuxedo! We bought matching ones, you fool! If anything, I need that bathroom just as much as you do!”

“But I have the bigger body. I’ve tacked on more mass than you, so, there’s a higher risk of me falling. You’ll be able to keep your tux clean, while I could be screwed. One false move, Dennis.” Mac leans against the bar. “That’s all it could take.”

Dennis scoffs. “What a load of shit! Jesus Christ, you’re not making sense! Mac, this is gonna be my wedding night.”

“It’s gonna be my wedding night too,” Mac reminds.

“Well, I need space! For, for my hair, and my make up–“

“The bathrooms are the same size–“

“Guys–“ Dee begins, but is ignored as usual.

“I’m not laying my products down on any _surface_ of that filthy place!”

“Oh, and I don’t deserve space for any of my products?”

“Mac,” Dennis sighs, “you don’t _have_ products.”

“Oh yeah? Well you don’t _need_ products. You’re hot enough as is.”

Dee groans. This better not be what she thinks it is. What she thinks will happen better not happen. “Goddamn it.”

Dennis bites on his lower lip. “I’m what now?”

“You’re hot enough without the make up,” Mac repeats, maintaining an eye contact that Dee is uncomfortable with witnessing. “Hotter, actually. I like you better without it. You’re already so pretty. Why mess with a good, a perfect thing?”

“Come with me.”

They dash away, and Dee fails to stop them. “Oh, come on! Not in the back office again!”

 

* * *

 

“And that, is why Dennis’ reasons are bullshit, and I deserve the cleaner bathroom more than he does,” Mac finishes with a smirk, basically rehashing and elaborating upon a bunch of stuff Dee heard him say that day.

“Do they know we’re not really listening?” Charlie whispers at Frank and Dee. Invigaron, the best game in the world, officially dropped yesterday, and all three of them are completely obsessed with it. Frank’s game making people completely ran with their ideas, and Dee’s having the time of her life. She’s already infiltrated the Abani berry pyramid scheme, rapidly climbing her way to the top. She’s got fourteen berry farms working for her, and hundreds of distributors. She has a mansion in the game now. That’s how lit her life is. She’s _this_ close to becoming a billionaire.

“Don’t think so,” Dee murmurs, pretending to pay attention to whatever Mac and Dennis are bickering on about. “We should probably say something to get them going. Frank, go.”

Frank looks up. He’s still at the Farmer stage in Invigaron, so he’s currently waiting two minutes for his berries to grow. “I think all those reasons are bullshit,” he tells them, because he obviously heard none of their arguments, and if Dee’s being frank (haha), their arguments really don’t make any sense. And they certainly wouldn’t hold up in court.

“What?” Dennis scoffs. “But Frank, the piecharts! The graphs! Did you see none of that?”

“Yeah, whatever,” Frank quickly harvests his berries and plants another batch, before looking up again. “In straight weddings, the bride gets the nice dressing room, right?”

Mac looks at Dennis. “Is he trying to say that neither of us should get the nice bathroom?”

Dennis puts his hands on his hips. “Well that’s just preposterous. Frank, this isn’t a straight wedding, and neither of us are the bride.”

Frank shrugs. “Guess that means the gayer one should get it.”

“The gayer one?”

“Of the both of us?”

Mac capitalizes on how flustered this makes Dennis. “Oh, well that’s easy. Everyone knows how gay I am. I’m Gay Mac. I’ve always been gay. I talk about men’s bodies all the damn time.”

Dennis huffs in shock. “I mean, I—Mac, I, I bottom! Like almost every time we do it. Being a bottom is gayer, I’m sure. Right, Frank?”

“Dennis is right. It’s gayer to want a dick up your ass than it is to put your dick up an ass.”

Dennis laughs mockingly at Mac, but he seems unfazed. “Well, I’ve sucked Dennis’ dick a bunch, so–“

“Oh, and _I_ haven’t sucked _your_ dick?”

“I’m just saying, I feel like I’ve sucked yours _more_ –“

“My knees have bruises! Bruises! From going down on you. I’ve slammed my knees to the ground harder than you’ve ever sucked me off, man.”

Mac gasps so hard Dee can feel their relationship taking the hit. She starts brokering a trade deal on Invigaron. That’s gonna take twenty minutes. Okay, guess she can afford to play along with whatever’s going on for real now.

“Are you trying to say I don’t give good head?”

“What? No, Mac, you give excellent head, I’m just trying to say that I go about it in a gayer way.”

Mac crosses his arms and frowns. “Okay, screw it. We’re gonna miss the point if we talk about this any longer. All those in favor of me being gayer than Dennis and thus being more deserving of the nice bathroom, hands up.”

Dee and Charlie’s hands go up. After a second, Frank’s hand goes up too.

“What?!” Dennis is unable to believe this. “What is wrong with all of you?”

“Sorry dude,” Charlie apologizes. “But like, Mac did a whole gay dance thing to come out to his dad. That’s gay commitment, man. Don’t think you get gayer than that.”

“That is stupid. That is a foolish reasoning and I–“

“Come on, Dennis. You have to admit it. Mac’s put a lot more effort into being gay than you ever have. You never even officially came out,” Dee appeals with a shrug.

“I sucked, I mean, I _sucked_ –“

“But so has Mac. And even though he’s banged you a bunch, he’s also fucked himself on his dildo bike almost as much as you’ve boned. So... he kind of covered all the bases here.”

“I can’t believe this,” Dennis croaks. Dee doesn’t feel much sympathy for him. Serves him right for being a needy bottom and not much else. “Mac... the bathroom’s yours.”

 

* * *

 

“Nope, can’t do it,” Dennis sighs as he barges into Mac’s dressing room, or the cleaner bathroom. “That place is disgusting, and completely unbearable if you’re planning on being there for more than a few minutes. Shift.”

Mac chuckles, his fingers still halfway through buttoning his dress shirt. Dennis peeks appreciatively at the bare skin this reveals. He has to admit, he’s glad Frank let them buy instead of rent, because Mac won’t be left with anything returnable by the time Dennis is done with him.

“Didn’t anyone tell you it’s bad luck to see the br—oh. Wait. We’re dudes. This is a gay wedding. What’s the rule for gays? Is it bad luck for the groom to see the groom?”

“Relax, it’s fine,” Dennis assures, already starting to fix his hair and make faces in the mirror. “Just don’t want that shitty bathroom ruining my wedding night. Honestly, I have no idea why we even fought over the bathrooms. There’s more than enough room for the both of us in here.”

Mac laughs. “Yeah, you’re right. Can’t believe no one pointed that out, man. But uh, this wedding... it’s fake, right?”

Dennis’ face falters. “Yeah. Well. It is a scheme, but... but it’s also a real wedding. Kind of. Okay. Not kind of. We’ll be signing an actual certificate.”

“Oh,” Mac nods his head. “I didn’t realize that. Didn’t know we were getting married for real.”

Fear fills Dennis up faster than air can enter his lungs. So it’s not actually that fast, but it’s still pretty fast. Enough to be significant. “I, well, it’s fine if you don’t want to. We don’t have to do it. I just thought it would be more convincing, that it would sell the scheme better—hell, we can even tear the damn thing in half after–“

“What? No, hell no, dude!”

Dennis presses his lips together to hide the forming smile. “Mac?”

“I wanna get married to you man. Wanna be in holy matrimony or whatever. Let God know we’re in love and shit. I want us to... be married for real.”

Damn it. Dennis can’t hide his smile anymore. “For real?”

“Yeah. Let’s go get married dude.”

Dennis leans over and gives Mac a lingering peck on the lips before pulling away rather sharply. “Not right now, though. I’m not nearly done getting ready, and the wedding doesn’t start for at least an hour."

 

* * *

 

_8:03 AM_

_On a Saturday_

_Stockholm, Sweden_

 

Birds are chirping in the air and his body is laid out on a raft like salt clings to the sea. The sun beats down lightly on his skin and if he were to feel it at all the breeze of the wind takes it away, leaving him just fine. It is summer, after all. He’ll survive. The waves crash on the shore and he listens to the waters as they yearn for him yet never coming quite so close. Oddly, a cello plays in the distance.

He sighs, rolling over. “We are adrift. The journey begins. We will go where the sea takes us. A new horizon.”

“You’re starting to look like a really big pork chop, Hoss.” He listens to Mac tug at the fishing rod. Dennis bites at his lip in annoyance. Big pork chop? That better be a sexy term of endearment and not a dig at his unbuttoned shirt and what it reveals, or Mac will have something else coming for him.

“Big pork chop?” Dennis finds it in him to get up and stagger over to Mac, collapsing in a heap next to him, pressing his whole self against Mac’s body. Mac’s overdressed body. Seriously, it’s summertime, and the guy looks like he’s fishing in winter. What’s with the turtleneck?

“Tryna say you look delicious,” Mac assures, gently elbowing Dennis in the ribs, before pushing his suspender higher on his shoulder. Those suspenders—now that, Dennis likes. He’s already trying to think of ways to convince Mac to keep those on but leave out the turtleneck. Maybe even ditch fishing altogether. What are they doing here, anyway? Why are they fishing? And why does Mac look less jacked than he’s supposed to be? Not that he minds, it’s just weird. And why–

“Mac, why is everything in black and white?”

Mac doesn’t even look fazed by this. “Because it’s 1957, Dennis. Everything was black and white back then.”

“Huh? Where are we?”

“On our honeymoon, of course.”

Oh. That’s perhaps less jarring than everything that’s happening. It even feels welcome and natural. Okay.

“Well, since it’s our honeymoon, don’t you want to–“

Suddenly, a strong force tugs Mac via his fishing rod and he plunges into the water at the next gust of wind that blows. A wave crashes on the shore again, as it is wont to do, and Mac gets whisked away.

“Mac!” Dennis has half a mind to jump into the water and save him, but he sees Mac’s head bob up above the waves and he heaves a sigh of relief. “Mac! Are you okay?”

Mac, who is clearly perfectly fine, shakes his head. “No!”

“No, what do you mean, no? Swim back to shore, you idiot!”

“Too far!”

“You’re less than ten yards away!”

“Sorry, Dennis! I’ll see you in the next life!”

He’s talking about heaven, which is ridiculous since Dennis is more than sure that if there is an afterlife, him and Mac are going to hell. But hey, at least they’d be together.

“Stop spouting nonsense and come back here, you fool!”

“Dennis, before I go–“

“Jesus fucking christ.”

“I have something to tell you!”

Isn’t it more painful for Mac to be treading water like he is now than it is for him to swim back to shore? Five more minutes of this at most and Dennis will have to jump in to drag Mac out for being a dumbass.

“Goddamn it, Mac, fine. What is it?”

“GOD!”

“What? Mac, god what? What about God?”

Mac’s head disappears under a wave and then reappears again. Whatever point he’s trying to make here, whatever joke he’s trying to land, it better be quick.

“GOD SAID!” His head disappears again and Dennis just about snaps.

“WHAT? GODDAMN IT MAC, STOP WASTING–“

“GOD SAID IT’S MY TURN–“

 

* * *

 

Dennis wakes up with a start, his mouth murmuring whatever jibberish his dream urged him to say, and Mac is laughing at him. Dennis rubs his eyes and sees Mac playing something he can’t make out on his phone. He groans and sits up, inching closer to Mac despite how his stupid husband is mocking him.

Right. Husband. They’re married now.

“How’d you sleep?” Mac asks anyway, and perhaps that is why Dennis is glad he put a ring on that finger. Metaphorically. They didn’t get rings, remember? They’re a total hassle, and he doesn’t want to look like an idiot wearing his alone if Mac loses the ring.

“Like a baby,” Dennis stretches, sitting up and putting his hands behind his head, looking over Mac’s phone. Kitten Mitten Rush. He should have known.

“Really? You were squirming and making all sorts of unhappy noises.”

Dennis shrugs. “Isn’t that how anyone would react in your presence?”

They get into a tickle fight for that dig and eventually, after many laughs and immense begging, Mac relents.

“You’re such an asshole,” he grins, rolling off Dennis. He’s so happy. They’re both so happy.

“We should go on a honeymoon,” Dennis says abruptly, and Mac stops playing his game to look at him with the eyes he fell in love with.

“Really?”

“Yeah,” Dennis looks at his fidgety fingers. “A honeymoon. Could be fun. We could just take off and leave in the Range Rover. See where the road takes us. The others won’t notice.”

“Yeah,” Mac chuckles. “They’re too busy playing Invigaron to care.”

Dennis laughs, throwing his head back against the headboard. “To be fair... so are we.”

“Oh yeah. That game’s the best,” he holds up his phone, “I’m only playing this because I’m waiting to set up some new company.”

“Nice!” Dennis grabs his phone from the dresser. “I set up a whole timeshare scheme.”

“Dude, no way! You gotta show me how you did that.”

“Maybe I will,” Dennis says with a teasing voice. “On our honeymoon. You do... want to go for one, right?”

“I mean, duh. It sounds so awesome. We’re gonna have so much fun, dude.”

“Yeah. Besides, while we’re on our honeymoon, we could get some rings. You know, not to wear, but maybe something cool to keep somewhere close. In case we gotta do a married scheme down the road. We could get something classy.”

“I like that,” Mac rolls over to his dresser and opens a drawer. “Speaking of rings, I found the one you proposed with–“ he places it in the palm of Dennis’ hand.

“Oh.” Dennis inspects it. “Wow. Where’d you find it?”

“Somewhere on the floor. Give it back, don’t wanna lose it again.”

Dennis raises his eyebrow as he hands the ring back over. “What happened to not caring since the ring cost nothing?”

Mac goes pink in the cheeks. It’s almost unnoticeable because of his tan. “You stole it for me, man. That’s gotta count for something.”

“You sure?”

“What else could it be?”

“I mean,” Dennis shrugs. “Technically the whole proposal was just a plan to get back at Rex and Economy John. Who said I did it for you?”

“You stole a ring because you love me,” Mac teases, refusing to entertain anything Dennis said otherwise. “Bet you have a whole crush on me too, dude.”

Dennis rolls his eyes. “You’re clearly delirious, let’s go back to sleep.”

“But my game–“

“You can play that tomorrow. We have to get to sleep, we have a whole honeymoon to plan for.”

Mac’s lips spread in a wide beam Dennis can’t wait to treat himself to when they go on their little holiday together. “Alright,” Mac relents. “I’ll sleep, but only if you dream of me.”

“I’ll keep that in mind. Good night, Mac.”

Dennis never ends up figuring out how to stop dreaming of Mac every night. But somehow, that doesn’t bother him quite so much these days. In fact, he even welcomes the dreams. Anticipates seeing Mac again when he shuts his eyes and his head hits that pillow. Funny how life works out, huh?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> and that's the end :'( i had so much fun writing this and like. esp for my first official fic in this fandom everyone was so sweet and welcoming and the reception of this fic meant the world to me. i am writing a new fic tho, and the first chapter will be out soon so stay tuned if you wanna see what crap i churn out 
> 
> would love to know your thoughts on this chapter! and also the whole fic if possible!

**Author's Note:**

> i hate myself and i cant believe i wrote this, im still so new to the fandom n idk what im doing but i couldnt get this idea out my head so here, hope u like it 
> 
> pls like (kudos), subscribe (uh, favorite i guess?) and comment (that means comment. wow). im globrights on tumblr u can feel free to reach me there!!


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